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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884356">Twisted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMalady/pseuds/SMalady'>SMalady</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, Confused Draco Malfoy, Confusion, M/M, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Switching Places, Wishes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:34:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMalady/pseuds/SMalady</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, Albus Dumbledore asked Severus Snape for a favour - look after eight-year-old Harry Potter over winter break. This changed the course of history for the entire Wizarding World. Eighteen years later, what will happen when this Harry Potter suddenly finds himself in a world where he never had a father's love and guidance? What will the Harry Potter, who had lost so much in the Second Wizarding War, do when he finds himself in a world where everyone lives happily ever after? Things get twisted for the two Boys-Who-Lived as they try to keep a secret - they don't belong here!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter &amp; Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What?" Severus Snape asked, his words as tepid as his demeanor. His pale fingers lingered against his robe, paused in place, and his bloodshot eyes remained steady, peering at the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. </p>
<p>"Have you not wished to prove your loyalty, Severus?" Albus murmured. He had hardly looked up at the Potions Master. His gaze, that held many secrets, was half-hidden behind his spectacles that reflected the crackling fire warming the damp room in the thick of winter. </p>
<p>Severus inhaled slowly as he tried to understand the situation. He couldn't believe Albus could have spoken those ill-chosen words just seconds ago. "You know." He leaned forward. "You know what I think of her, about him... And all that has happened. Why do you ask me to do this?" he inquired with great curiosity. "Because of how I feel about her?" </p>
<p>"Yes. The simple answer is yes." Dumbledore betrayed no emotions in his words. </p>
<p>"I have no sympathy for this… this boy." Severus spat out the last word with much intensity and spite. "I’m responsible for all that has transpired. I was in the Dark Lord's inner circle!" he boomed. He stood up as his muscles started tensing one after the other, aching as they clenched in defence. "I am a Death Eater, Albus. Now, tell me what you expect me to do." </p>
<p>"I've made a mistake," Albus admitted. He finally looked up at Severus. "I have made a mistake and I implore you to rectify it." </p>
<p>Severus barked in sordid amusement, his black hair dancing against his cheeks as he lifted his head up slightly. Dumbledore had finally gone insane. "Then why don't <em> you </em> take him in?" he taunted. "He is your charge. You seem desperate to keep him safe. He will be safe at Hogwarts. Take him there." </p>
<p>"I cannot," Albus said. His fingers were weaving into the soft strands of his beard. "Not yet. I need some time to make arrangements. Until then, I must get him away from his family." </p>
<p>Severus slammed his hands on the table vehemently, all traces of his wry laugh vanishing in an instant. "Why me?” </p>
<p>"His own family is unable to give him anything but misery and loneliness." Albus sat back against the chair. He reached inside his robe to pick out a flimsy piece of lined paper from an inner pocket. It seemed to have been folded and read many times that the creases nearly caused it to rip apart. He held it out to Severus, who snatched it with a disgruntled growl. There were faint pencil marks on it, shaky and hardly legible. He had to move towards the candelabra to read it. </p>
<p><em> Dear Santa, </em> </p>
<p><em> When you come over this year can I go away with you? I do not want presents. I do not like this house so I want to live with you. I will be very quiet because I am very good at being quiet. I will help mend the toys and I can cook food for all the elves. </em> </p>
<p><em> Just get me out of this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid house. It hurts too much. I don't like anyone in it and everyone in it hates me. Please. </em> </p>
<p>
  <em> Harry Potter<br/></em>
</p>
<p>Severus hadn't realized that he was holding his breath until he released it in one loud gush. He glanced over his shoulder at the headmaster who had been watching him the entire time. "Because of this?" he asked blandly. He held up the letter in contempt. "He doesn't like his time outs, so you want to rescue him?" </p>
<p>"The house has been experiencing enormous spurts of uncontrolled magic, Severus. If this continues, there is no telling what the child will do to escape his family. He could hurt himself. Just until school begins after winter break, that's all I need. He needs to be housed in a location he feels safe in and I trust you to provide him with such an environment. Once you return to school, I promise you, I will take over all responsibility. Just for a fortnight. I know what I ask of you is most unfortunate-" </p>
<p>"Then don't ask me!" </p>
<p>Albus tilted his head to the side and steepled his fingers. Severus' mounting anger rolled off his back without ruffling him the least bit. “I trust you.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Snow packed along the sides of the road and ice slicked the pavement on the night Harry James Potter arrived at Spinner's End, bundled in a jacket three sizes too big, worn boots, ratty mittens and a threadbare scarf. All of those were his, passed down from lovely Dudley Dursley. Held in Harry's hands was a small duffel bag that stored the rest of his meager possessions he had packed up from the cupboard under the stairs. And now he stood in front of an ordinary looking door of an ordinary looking house that stood on an ordinary looking street, still ogling at the <em> extraordinary </em> man that stood beside him. </p>
<p>When the old man with the beard and purple suit had come to collect him from Privet Drive, Harry had no qualms. He didn't question anything. He didn't even say goodbye. He packed his things and walked out without a word, in awe of the man who had made his uncle and aunt cower in fright. </p>
<p>Now here he was, three days before Christmas. </p>
<p>"You don't have to pretend to be Santa Clause," he said quietly. "He's not real." </p>
<p>Albus smiled down, his blue eyes dancing with cheer. "I rather like pretending to be him," he responded before knocking three times. </p>
<p>Harry started when the door opened abruptly. Then he took a step back when he saw who had opened it. There stood a figure who was so very pale with black hair framing an unflattering face, ominous shadows playing against pasty cheeks and a sharp hooked nose. His eyes were dark and sunken, and his brows were knitted together into what could only be a permanent frown. He wore the strangest clothes too, although not quite as strange as pretend Santa. A long black robe, as black as the night. </p>
<p>Severus directed a disgusted glare towards the boy and then dismissed him entirely to look up at Dumbledore, to whom he directed an even fiercer scowl. </p>
<p>"Merry Christmas, Severus," Albus said as he nudged Harry forward into the foyer and closed the door between them without a farewell. </p>
<p>Harry continued to stare at the thin man. Severus clicked his tongue in exasperation and walked away. He had left his potion brewing. </p>
<p>Harry took the time alone to survey his surroundings. He understood why he was there. He was to live with this man now. He looked around the cramped and dark corridor. Unlike his old place, this house looked a bit foreboding and was too quiet. At Privet Drive, the telly was always blaring. Not in this house. The walls were bare. At Privet Drive, the walls were adorned with tacky paintings and pictures of precious Dudley-kins. Not in this house. Harry couldn't make out the color on the walls without light. He felt around for a light switch, but found nothing. He shrugged to himself before plopping down on the ground and struggling to get his large boots off of his cold feet. The taxi ride to the house had been silent. Now this exchange had been silent too. It was all so mysterious. </p>
<p>He shuffled down to the first entryway that had light, finding himself in the living room. It was plain with two grey couches, a fireplace on one end, two chairs by the window and a coffee table with nothing on it. Through the living room he made his way into the kitchen where, once again, there was almost nothing. </p>
<p>Not even a fridge or a stove. </p>
<p>Harry worried his lip. How was he supposed to eat? <em> What </em> was he supposed to eat? He shook his head to get rid of his trepidation and scurried out of there. On the other side of the hallway was another door, this one closed. He opened it and shivered when he heard that frightening creak he had heard all too often in scary movies. The door had stairs behind them, going down. Harry would have never ventured down there if he could help it. </p>
<p>Harry kept walking down the hallway that held four more doors, two on each side. This house was very weird. Just one corridor with doors on either end. He soon figured out that two of those doors led into bedrooms, one of them obviously his as it had a tiny bed, bare drawers, and an empty wardrobe. He barely hid his excitement as he set his bag atop the bed and then ran to the window to look out. He had his own window. He stared out into the fence of his neighbor, but that was okay. It was still a window. </p>
<p>Opposite the two bedrooms were one bathroom and one <em> enormous </em>study. Harry was blown away by how massive the library was. He didn't quite understand how such a large room could exist in this tiny home. He knew better than to venture into the room uninvited, so he filled his hungry eyes with the sights. </p>
<p>Once he was in his room again, he looked around more intently. A soft flickering light shone from a lantern on his bedside. He also had a broad wardrobe, one chest of draws, a small table and a chair. The room was painted white and the floors were carpeted. It felt nice under his socked feet. The bed was just a twin, but that was incredibly large in Harry's eyes. He sat on it with some hesitance. Then he lowered himself onto his back and stared up at the white ceiling. It was strange being in bed with a light on. He wasn't used to having a light on at night, not in the cupboard under the stairs.</p>
<p>He fell asleep that way, his legs dangling over the edge and his hands clasped on his stomach. </p>
<p>Severus leaned against the doorjamb and watched for many minutes, lost in his own thoughts. This was Harry Potter. This was Lily's son. He cringed. The boy looked nothing like Lily. He looked like a proper Potter instead. His teeth gritted in anger as memories started to surface. He carefully pushed them down by remembering his reasons for housing Potter's child. It was for Lily's sake. It was how he would atone for his wrongdoings. He would do right by <em> Lily's </em> child. He was <em> Lily's </em> child. Severus realized that he would have to keep reminding himself of that because, from that day on, all he would be seeing was the face of a bully who had tormented him for years too many. </p>
<p><em> Lily's </em> child. </p>
<p>He huffed as he pushed away from the doorjamb and walked to his own bedroom. He wasn't about to lose yet another night over this. Not if he could help it. Fourteen days.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry jerked awake with flailing arms, his stomach dropping as he fell. He quickly sat up and whipped his gaze around the brightly lit bedroom in shock. He tried to remember furiously and everything came back to him before long. He sighed with relief. This was his room now. </p><p>His lips pulled up into an infrequent smile. <em> His </em> room. </p><p>He fell back and flipped over onto his stomach, screaming into the mattress with glee. He squealed and laughed until he was crying and laughing some more. He wasn't at Privet Drive any longer. He wasn’t in the cupboard under the stairs of that awful, awful house. Santa had answered his letter and now he was far, far away. </p><p>A sharp knock interrupted his celebration. </p><p>He scrambled off of the bed and rushed to the door to fling it open. </p><p>Severus staggered back when Harry threw his small arms around his legs and squeezed him hard. He was struck dumb. He also nearly pushed Harry away, barely restraining himself in the nick of time. His arms dropped to his sides instead and he let the boy have his way for a few moments before clearing his throat. </p><p>Harry tipped his head up to look at Severus with a bright smile. "Thank you," he hummed. "I knew you'd take me away." </p><p>"Goodness," Severus grumbled under his breath. "Don't touch me." </p><p>Harry froze, then his arms slackened. Severus relaxed when Harry stepped back quickly with his head down. Damn it, the lad even had that hopeless shock of black hair like James Potter. "Get dressed for breakfast," Severus said brusquely. "You are absolutely filthy." He spun around on his heel and stormed towards the kitchen. </p><p>"I can cook."</p><p>"I would rather live," Severus drawled as he disappeared around the corner. </p><p>Harry twisted the hem of his shirt between his fingers. Was he supposed to take a bath now? He hurried to get his bag, out of which he pulled out clean underwear, worn pants, and his best shirt. He wanted to impress the new nameless man. He also took his toothbrush out so he could clean his smelly teeth. </p><p>Severus was contemplating heinous murder when Harry walked in with damp hair many minutes later. Potter seemed to have no sense of etiquette. "When I call you for breakfast," he seethed, "I expect you to be ready in no less than five minutes, understood?" </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>Severus blinked. </p><p>Harry sat down in front of his plate while trying to be as proper as possible. His glasses had a habit of slipping down his nose, so it was nestled at the tip as he tucked into breakfast, which consisted of eggs and toast. After snapping out of his reverie, Severus did the same, albeit while growling a few choice words under his breath. They ate in silence. The professor glanced at the child at intervals when the fork screeched against the plate or the cup thudded a bit loudly on the table. Harry ate in small, measured bites. He looked no more than six. But that wasn’t possible. </p><p>"How old are you?" Severus asked after placing his fork down. </p><p>"Eight." </p><p>Three years until he would be studying at Hogwarts. Severus remembered those days bitterly. He was expected to make room in his day for this good-for-nothing who everyone revered like no other. Had it not been for Lily, Harry wouldn't even be alive. That was the only reason Severus had agreed to care for a child that looked nothing like her. He got up and gathered the dirty dishes. Then, pulling out his wand, he flicked them away to the kitchen. </p><p>He jumped when he heard a sharp squeak and crash.  </p><p>Harry had just toppled off the chair.</p><p>"Don't you even have a modicum of manners in you?" Severus snapped. "Get up."</p><p>"Wh-wh-wh-what's that?"</p><p>He looked down at his wand, then back at Harry who was gawking at him openly. He hadn't noticed those stark green eyes until then. "What do you mean?" he murmured in confusion. He was mesmerized by Lily's gaze. She had looked at him the same way when he showed her the things he could do with a wave of his hand. She had looked up at him with those same eyes, that same expression – a mixture of fear and delight. </p><p>"Magic?" Harry breathed. "Was that magic? Is that what magic is?" </p><p>"Haven't they talked to you about magic?" By the incredulous way Harry was staring at Severus, he could guess at the answer. "They've told you nothing?" </p><p>"About what?" Harry asked nervously. "They never tell me anything." </p><p>"But you must know about your mother. You must know how she died." </p><p>Harry blanched and withdrew physically. His small arms were folded against his stomach and his eyes drew to the floor. "A-an accident?" he mumbled. "They died in a car crash." </p><p>Severus pressed a hand to his mouth in defeat. Harry really didn't know anything. Petunia had kept him in the dark. What had she planned to do? Drive the magic out of him by never telling him? Pretend like Lily never existed? "And you believed them?" he couldn't help spitting out. Was this boy daft? "Are you daft?" </p><p>Harry spun on his heel to run away. He shrieked when he was jerked around by the arm instead. He struggled against Severus' bony grasp in vain and couldn't stop from being dragged into the living room. The professor didn't let go of him until he was deposited on one of the dusty grey couches. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest as he wailed. </p><p>"This is no time to cry," Severus snarled. "Now you are going to sit there and listen to everything I am about to say to you. No interruptions and no questions until the end, understood?" </p><p>"I'm sorry," Harry cried. "I-I'm sorry." </p><p>"I've seen the act before, Potter," Severus rebuked, grasping the back of the boy's collar and tugging it to make him lift his head. "You may have fooled that old man, but it takes more than a few tears to fool me, understood?" </p><p>Harry nodded quickly and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes from behind his glasses as he shuddered. "I won't say anything," he sobbed. "I'm sorry. I won't." </p><p>Severus sat opposite Harry on the coffee table. "You are a wizard. You have magic in you, like your mother. She did not die in an accident and I don't know what kind of a simpleton would believe a lie of that sort when it's coming out of the Petunia's sour tongue. Lily was killed and you survived because of her death." He paused for effect, knowing that he had scared Harry out of his wits already. But he wanted to torture Potter's boy for a little while longer. "You must listen carefully to what I am about to say next," he added menacingly. "If you <em> ever </em> squander away this precious existence of yours, you will <em> personally </em> deal with me and I will make sure you feel more remorse than you will be able to live with." </p><p>Harry wasn't crying anymore. He was too stunned. </p><p>"For two weeks, I will be your guardian. You thought your life with the Dursleys was hard? Be careful what you wish for. You will wake up every morning at seven and finish your breakfast by eight thirty. I shall begrudgingly allow you to use my library afterwards and provide you with some schoolwork. No doubt you need to be taught even the most simple concepts, considering your magical schooling is that of a troll. Lunch will be served at twelve. After, you may do what you like in the house, provided you make not a single peep. At two, you will continue with your reading. You will read all the pages I have assigned to you and you will keep a notebook in which you will write every single day for at least one hour detailing the concepts you have <em> hopefully </em> managed to get inside your head. Dinner is at six and your curfew is eight. You are not to be seen or heard by anyone. If, at any point in your stay, I find you unsatisfactory, rest assured, I will make it known and you shall be scrubbing cauldrons until your hands are chaffed and your elbows are bruised. Under no petty circumstances are you to disobey me. Have I made myself clear?" </p><p>Harry swatted Severus on the cheek. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus didn't understand at first even though his hard expression slackened. He had been ranting as per usual and then-</p><p>"Did you just…?" He trailed off. </p><p>Harry still sat huddled on the couch. The hand he had used to slap Severus hung by his side. His face didn't betray any guilt. Instead, his emerald eyes were aflame. "You are being mean to me." </p><p>Severus sat back. He hadn't dreamt it. Harry Potter had just smacked his cheek and was now chiding him. "Pardon me?" </p><p>"I don't even know your name and you're being mean to me," Harry repeated. "I don't like that." </p><p>"Did you just hit me?" </p><p>"I don't like it when rude people tell me what to do." </p><p>"Potter-" </p><p>"I haven't even <em> done </em> anything yet and you're already scolding at me." </p><p>Severus pressed a hand to his cheek. "What the devil is the matter with you?!</p><p>Slowly, Harry's lips curled up and his eyes crinkled. "But I still like you, mister," he announced with a firm nod. "You didn't hit me back." </p><p>Severus pulled his arm back to do just the opposite, but Harry was faster. He ducked and hopped off the sofa, moving out of Severus' reach. His earlier passive demeanor had vanished entirely. Severus arched a brow in derision. He had a feeling Harry was a bit touched in the head. "My name is Severus Snape. Call me Professor." </p><p>"Okay, Professor. I'll get ready for my first lesson now. In the library?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Harry ran out of the living room to get what little books he had out of his bag and then marched into the library, so incredibly energized and exhilarated about his first day at magic school. </p><p>He already knew he could do magic. He had done it loads of times already. He had been surprised by the professor because he thought <em> he </em> was the only one who could float things. Evidently that was not the case. He wasn't alone. There were other people in the world who were freaks like him. That was comforting. He hadn't felt this excited in so long. </p><p>The library looked even more magnificent in daytime. Shelves were lined with many old books that had regal spines and gold lettering. There was a large table in the middle that already housed a few stacks of tomes, some small reading lamps and a few chairs. Harry hopped onto one of the chairs and set his books down into a neat pile. Then he stared out the large windows that looked out into the overgrown backyard. He couldn't wait to play in there. He hoped the professor would let him. No. He <em> knew </em> his professor would let him. This man was nothing like the Dursleys. He spoke to Harry like he was an actual person who mattered. That's all Harry had wanted for years. Even when he was scolded, he wanted to be scolded as Harry. He was a real person, for heaven's sake. </p><p>He moved his arms to place them against the table, folded them and then rested his cheek against them. He was going to have fun with Professor. He just knew it. </p><p>When Severus swept into the library after composing himself, he found Harry in that position, head down on the table and legs swinging against the chair because they were too short to reach the ground. He cleared his throat to make his presence known. Harry quickly sat upright and looked up at Severus hopefully. </p><p>"Violence, of any kind, is unacceptable in this house," the professor started off by saying. </p><p>Harry frowned in confusion. He didn't understand what that meant. </p><p>"You aren't allowed to hit people," Severus clarified. </p><p>Now he was even more confused. "Why not?" he asked. "If they're being mean, it's okay." </p><p>"I assure you, Potter, it most certainly is not," Severus exhaled. "At least not so blatantly," he added for his own sake. He took the chair opposite Harry's. "Did you take such liberties with your family?" </p><p>Harry wrinkled his nose and sat back. He was dwarfed by the high seat that accentuated how truly small he was. "They would hit me," he said slowly. "People at school would hit." </p><p>"Have you ever hit them back?" </p><p>Harry shrugged. "I would want to. They would hit me faster than I can hit them." </p><p>"And why did you hit me?" </p><p>"Because you… You were being mean to me." Harry was trying to reason it out. "I just wanted to see if you would hit me back. You were being mean to me when I didn't do anything bad yet. You need to wait until I do something bad." </p><p>Severus rubbed his aching forehead. This child was something else. "From now on, no hitting," he commanded. "Rule number one. No hitting anyone for being mean. That is the most childish and absurd thing I have ever heard." </p><p>"Why?" </p><p>"A wizard does not lower himself to such paltry ways of settling disputes. You either talk or you duel. You argue with intelligent words until you win. You use spells while keeping your wits about you until the better man comes out on top." </p><p>"I bet you always win, huh?" Harry said knowingly. </p><p>Severus raked a hand through his hair. "What did the Dursleys do to you?"</p><p>Harry had a list of grievances written right there in his notebook. He flipped it open and coughed once to indicate that he was about to begin. "They make me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. It's dark in there. They make me cook breakfast for them. If I do it wrong, Aunt Petunia will box my ears. They won't let me watch the telly because it rots brains, but Dudley gets to watch it all the time. I guess they're probably right about that because his brains are <em>really</em> rotten." He looked up at Severus gravely to show him how serious that statement was. "They never call me Harry," he continued. "They never talk to me about my parents. They never talk to me about anything unless they are being mean. Uncle Vernon smacks me about if I don't clean the house properly." He looked up again to break off into an anecdote. "This one time, I forgot to dust the mantle and he made me wash <em>all</em> the dishes in the house. Even the ones that weren't dirty." Then he looked down at his book again to keep going. "Dudley is the meanest boy ever. He hits me and tells me that's part of the game. I don't know any games that are like that. He lies a lot. I don't like liars. He is a big baby and I hate him." He flipped the page. </p><p>"That's enough for now," Severus said quietly. </p><p>"I'll tell you more tomorrow, Professor," Harry promised. He closed the book and pushed it away. "Teach me magic please." </p><p>Harry was going to be a handful.</p><p>After an hour of trying to gauge Harry's intelligence, Severus concluded that he had been right - the kid was about as smart as a troll. He would have to start from the beginning and that infuriated him to no end. He watched Harry out the backdoor of the house after lunch. The yard was damp from melted snow and filled with weeds, but Harry played in it like it was an incredible field. He would crouch on his haunches and stare at a dead insect for a minute and then jump up to run to the tree to see if he could climb it despite the fact that all the branches were an entire meter out of his reach. Then he would trip towards the fence and peer out into the deserted alleyway before hopping about because mud had gotten into his shoes. He was a very curious boy, this one. Not a moment of silence. It was a small wonder the Dursleys had to be so strict with him. He must have been running amuck in their home. </p><p>Severus harrumphed. He would be damned if he let Potter run the place. </p><p>Later that evening, Harry sat by the window in the library with books all around him. They were all much too deep but he wanted to show the professor that he could read. The house had been quiet for a while as he jumped from one book to the next whenever he got bored. Severus was glad that Harry had been tuckered out by all that running around he did in the yard. </p><p>"Oh, hey! I'm in this book!" </p><p>Severus grimaced and shot up from his seat. He had forgotten that one of the books Harry had grabbed off the shelf had quite a detailed and <em> very </em> biased description of the events that followed Lord Voldemort's quest to kill the Potters. He strode over to Harry's perch to snatch the book away. "Perhaps that is not a good read for you.” </p><p>"But wait! I was just getting to the good parts!" </p><p>"Believe me, there are no good parts to this story," Severus assured him as he floated the book away to one of the top shelves that was out of Harry's reach. </p><p>"Tell me!" </p><p>"Quiet. No one likes a spoilt child." </p><p>Harry sulked with his arms folded against his chest as he watched Severus sit back down at the table and continue his notes. Even though the professor had told him more about his parents than anyone ever did, he still didn't say everything. Harry wanted to know why his parents had died and who killed them and why he hadn't been killed and why no one wanted to say anything about it. He wanted to know a lot more about his life. The book seemed to be the key. Harry flicked his eyes up at the shelf that housed it now. He would have to figure out a way to get it. </p>
<hr/><p>Severus stirred from his dreamless sleep because of a quiet disturbance. He rolled over onto his side and opened his eyes. </p><p>Harry blinked back at him. </p><p>"Goddamn it," he swore as he shot up in bed and clutched at his heart. "What time is it?" </p><p>"I don't know," Harry chimed. There were no clocks in the house. "But I made breakfast." He scurried over to the small chest at the bedposts where he had placed a tray of food. "You don't have a hob, Professor. How do you cook food?" He had poured cereal into a bowl and arranged a spoon and napkin beside it with a mug of milk and a glass of juice. He balanced the whole tray in his small hands and plodded around the bed. Severus quickly took the tray from the boy's grasp, not wanting to clean up a mess if it all spilled. "Do you like cereal?" Harry asked. "I do." </p><p>"You aren't required to make me breakfast," Severus muttered. "I am more than capable of caring for you. Did you make a mess of my kitchen?" </p><p>Harry appeared affronted. "I'm being nice, Professor. I just wanted to make you breakfast. You made me breakfast yesterday, so I wanted to make it for you today." </p><p>Severus found it hard to keep up with this little rascal. He hated the way Potter had gotten a hold of what little slivers of sentimentality he had left. He remained mum as he poured milk into the bowl and ate his cereal. Harry sat on the edge of the bed to watch with a proud grin. That got disturbing very quickly. "Tell me more about the Dursleys then," Severus sighed. </p><p>Harry hopped off the bed, zoomed out the room and back in with his notebook in hand in a matter of seconds. He settled down on the rumpled sheets again. "I used to like school," he started reading. "But then Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had to go ruin it. They told the teachers a lot of lies. I wasn't allowed to go out to play or anything because they thought I would fight with my friends." His bottom lip jutted out a bit. "I <em> won't</em>. I don't fight with friends. I like my friends." He scowled at his writing. "I never get presents for my birthday. They don't even remember my birthday. Uncle Vernon said he wishes I were never born. That's why they don't remember my birthday." </p><p>Severus clicked his tongue once, but didn’t comment. </p><p>"Well, joke's on them," Harry continued as he turned his nose up. "I was born already, so they can't do anything about it." </p><p>"True." </p><p>"I don't like my room. It's too dark and I can always hear the clock outside. Aunt Petunia says it would help me sleep. It doesn't. It does the opposite. I have to keep my clothes under my cot because I don't have any place else to put it." He smiled up at Severus. "I like my room now, Professor. Thank you." </p><p>Severus tightened his grip on spoon, imagining it was his wand and then imagining that wand pointing directly at Albus Dumbledore. Damn that old codger. Was this his plan all along? Damn him. "Tell me about the magic," Severus said through clenched teeth. </p><p>Harry tossed the book aside as his eyes widened in enthusiasm. "Once, Dudley and his gang were trying to hit me with rocks. They hit me a lot of times and it didn't really hurt. But one of them was going to hit my face and then, suddenly, it flew off and hit Dudley's dumb friend in the neck. It wasn't so funny then, but it's funny now!" He laughed as he reminisced. "Also, my aunt doesn't like my hair and she keeps taking me to the barber to cut it off. I don't know why she won't just leave it be. It's not being a bother to anyone. It's on <em> my </em> head, not hers. She's so silly." He just didn't understand his Aunt Petunia's particulars. "My haircut stays for a day or two. Then the next morning, it all grows back. I tried asking her why it did that and she said it's because I'm a freak. But I knew it wasn't that simple." He nodded with a knowing smile. "I knew, Professor. I knew I was different. I'm glad I'm not the only one." </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just four days into his stay, Harry was already sent to the dungeon.</p><p>All he had done was borrow Professor's wand and try to float things. The look on Severus' face when he had caught Harry not one minute after was terrifying. Harry had been quelled into dropping the wand and scrambling away. Severus was faster as he shot forward and gripped Harry's ear between his fingers, pinching it hard, and dragged him out into the corridor. He hadn't said a word despite all the crying and flurry of apologies coming from the child. He simply threw the door to the basement open and pulled Harry down it. </p><p>The dungeon was dark, cold, and damp. Harry started screaming at that point, so sure that he was going to be killed. Severus lit the place with a wave of his hand. Torches lined the walls evenly and the light made the dungeon even more terrifying. He all but tossed Harry into a dark corner of the room and handed a wooden brush to him. "I want these clean in one hour," he snarled. He pushed a bucket of lukewarm, soapy water towards the boy before pointing at four black cauldrons. "Not a spot left, understand?" He didn't wait for Harry to answer. He swept out of the cellar and left the crying child there. </p><p>Harry whimpered sadly as he plopped down on his bottom and pressed his fists against his eyes from behind his glasses. Professor was just like the Dursleys after all. He nearly cried himself sick for many, many minutes before running out of tears. Then he started shivering from the frigid draft that hit every exposed part of his body. Once he realized that Severus wasn't coming back, he took the time to survey his surroundings. The cellar was enormous. Against one wall stood glass cabinets, all locked, with many strange flasks, boxes, tins and plants housed in them. They were labeled neatly. Atop the large stone counter stood many shiny metal instruments Harry could only guess the uses for. There were a lot of cauldrons, big and small, copper and silver, dirty and clean. A contained fire was heating one of the cauldrons on the countertop and swirling grey steam came off the top. Harry ventured towards it while wiping away tears from his cheeks. He didn't dare touch anything but he was fascinated by the blue flames. The smell of strong menthol was prominent. It reminded Harry of medicine and doctors. He wondered if that was what Professor did as his job. There were measuring cups, stirring sticks, chopping boards on which a few remnants of dried up roots and stems sat, and a teetering balance that kept rocking back and forth. </p><p>When Severus silently ventured downstairs an hour later, he found Harry squatting on the floor and scrubbing the cauldrons as fast as his little hands could. He had only finished one from the looks of it. The professor walked over and watched him work diligently. Harry would first dip the brush into the bucket and then run the hard bristles over the caked-up residue in the bottom of the cauldron. His whole arm would disappear into it because of how large the cauldron was. Severus feared Harry might actually fall in at some point. He cleared his throat. </p><p>Harry jerked and whipped his head around. </p><p>"Lunch."</p><p>Harry's face scrunched up and he looked like he might cry again. But he turned away from Severus instead and kept scrubbing, his actions suddenly becoming fierce and angry. He grabbed the bucket and poured some of the water into the cauldron. He seemed to have figured out that the pail had been enchanted so it never ran out of soapy water. He kept cleaning, the sound of sloshing water echoing through the dungeon. </p><p>"I said it's time for lunch," Severus tried again. </p><p>"No." </p><p>"Why not?" </p><p>"I'm not done yet." </p><p>Severus examined the lone clean cauldron, twitching his mouth when he realized how his version of clean and Potter's version were two vastly different things. "You may stop." </p><p>"No." </p><p>"Stubborn?" </p><p>Harry ground his teeth together. </p><p>"Stubbornness often works against you," Severus noted. "And why would you keep cleaning if I asked you to stop?" Harry didn't know why. He just felt that if his punishment was to clean four cauldrons, then he would clean all four of them. "It's not a sign of weakness if you take an opportunity that comes your way, even if it means putting aside some pride." Harry didn't respond. He poured the dirty water out of the cauldron and onto the ground, watching it flow down the drain. "A wand isn't a plaything. It is a dangerous weapon. And it is a wizard's prized possession. The wand chooses its wizard. It becomes a part of the wizard, part of his life."</p><p>Harry hazarded a look at the professor. </p><p>"You mustn't play with it. You must respect it. And you must respect my property." </p><p>He had stopped scrubbing the cauldron by then. He was wet from splashed water and sweat. Tears stung his eyes again and he blinked it away. How was he supposed to know that a wand was so important? He didn't know anything. Professor said he was stupid, didn't he? So how did he expect Harry to know that a wand was so important? He tilted his head down and hid his face against his knees. </p><p>Severus knelt down and tried to coax Harry into standing up. "Lunch will get cold," he said quietly. After a minute, he managed to succeed. The young boy might not know it yet, but that was Severus' way of apologizing. </p>
<hr/><p>"Severus Snape is such a silly name, right?" </p><p>Harry had made that passing remark without much bite, as though he had been commenting about the weather. He hadn't even lifted up his head from his parchment on which he was painstakingly writing with a quill. It was so strange writing with a feather and ink.</p><p>"You think my name is silly?" Severus said.</p><p>"Yeah," Harry mumbled before sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth and underlining a word carefully. "Dudley made fun of my name. I have a silly name too. He called me Harry Potty. That's the best he could come up with." </p><p>Severus smirked behind his newspaper. "Then what's the best you can come up with?" he wanted to know. </p><p>"Well, I can't come up with anything. But at school they'd call me Nutter Crackpotter. Because I'm crazy. That's pretty clever, huh?" </p><p>"Are you crazy?" </p><p>"Not <em> crazy </em> ," Harry stressed. "Like… crazy. You know? I do weird things. That kind of crazy. I'm not <em> crazy </em>." </p><p>"Emphasizing the word does not help me differentiate its meanings." </p><p>Harry looked up from his work. "I'm not <em> crazy </em> , Professor. But sometimes they think I do weird things. That doesn't make me <em> crazy </em>. It just makes me crazy." </p><p>"You are quite strange, if you want my honest opinion." </p><p>"Strange, but not <em> crazy </em>. You are quite strange too, Professor. That's why we're friends." </p>
<hr/><p>Severus was shocked out of his work in the cellar when he heard a loud crash above, which could indicate only one thing. He rushed up the stairs and into the library, gaping at the mess he found on the floor. Harry lay awkwardly in the middle and books were scattered all around him. Severus looked up in astonishment. Books from the top shelf had fallen. That meant Harry had also fallen from there. With a quiet swear, he strode over to the boy who was just coming to. </p><p>However, before he could throw sharp words Harry's way, he was interrupted by a loud shriek. </p><p>Harry screamed as fear suddenly clouded his mind. He hadn't hurt himself but he had scared himself witless. He vaguely felt arms wrap around him, so he clung on as hard as he could to keep from falling. His heart and stomach kept plunging over and over again. He buried his face against Severus' shoulder and screamed himself hoarse. Then he cried until he fell asleep. </p><p>He had a raging fever for two days after the fall. He kept fighting off bullies, trying to run away from the school principal, and cowering in his dark closet. He knew it wasn't real but, at times, it felt too real. Even when he heard Professor talking to him, it felt too real. He hated his nightmares. </p><p>But he always woke up from them. </p><p>He stirred awake with stifling heat all around him. He was sweating and it felt gross. He opened his eyes to find himself in his bedroom where a single candle was burning on his bedside table, casting some light onto Severus who sat on a chair by the bed, asleep, his expression slackened and his breath heavy. Harry got up carefully. </p><p>Severus awoke when he heard the sheets rustling. He was a light sleeper. "Potter?" </p><p>"Hmm?" The professor always called him Potter. </p><p>"Do you want some water?" </p><p>"No." </p><p>"You've been sick." </p><p>Harry brushed at his cheeks. "I want to see Mummy," he sniffed. "I want to see Mummy and Daddy and I can't. Even when I sleep I can't." </p><p>"It's a nightmare." Severus reached forward and pushed away black strands of hair that stuck to Harry's sweaty forehead. He lingered over the lightning scar for a beat. "You're okay now." </p><p>Harry raised his head to reveal his teary green eyes. "You look scary…" </p><p>Severus couldn't help his dry smile. He pulled his hand back and nodded. "I know," he said. He had a reputation for looking scary. "Goodnight." He moved to get up. </p><p>Harry quickly reached out and grabbed Severus’ robe that swished past him. "Wait, I didn't mean it badly." Severus glanced back at Harry. "I meant that, if you look that scary, then the Dursleys won't come get me because they would be scared, right? You'll scare everyone away, won't you?" </p><p>"Is that what you would like me to do?" </p><p>"Mhm. Please?"</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong><em>Eighteen years later…</em> </strong>
</p><p>"GET DOWN!" </p><p>Short shrieks of astonishment punctuated the commotion in the busy, wintry street market as customers dove to either side of the pavement in an attempt to get away from the black streaks hurtling past their heads. Mothers grabbed their gawking children and spun them into the rickety stalls before they could be mowed down by the stream of men speeding after each other on brooms. Shop owners craned their necks to follow the hubbub that disrupted holiday shopping. The chase grew heated as the riders veered into busy lanes of people in an attempt to get ahead. </p><p>"STOP OR WE FIRE!" </p><p>The man in front, who appeared to be in very serious trouble, didn't even falter at the threat. He knew there was no way his pursuers could pull out a wand while traveling at breakneck speeds in a bazaar full of innocent bystanders. He pressed onward, lowering his body against the broom to push through frigid air. </p><p>A heavy brown leather satchel hung across his shoulder, laden with burgled wares that he had no business possessing. </p><p>He turned a sharp left and then a quick right. </p><p>An enormous decorated pine tree that stood in his path made him yelp. He pulled up as hard as he could to make the broom climb. </p><p>"SHIT!"  </p><p>That was what the burglar heard before he was struck in the back by a brutal force that launched him into the air, straight at the tree. He grunted as he struck the thick branches, breaking needles and ornaments on the way. He ended up getting buried deep inside before he felt the tree tipping dangerously. "Oh no..."</p><p>There was sudden madness in the market as everyone made a break for it, rushing to get out of the way of the falling Christmas tree. Ornaments shook off and fell to the ground, shattering on impact. With a dramatic effect, the tree toppled onto half a dozen stalls, causing a thundering crash to sound throughout the district. </p><p>The burglar sputtered to get the fir needles out of his mouth, completely immobilized by the tree trunk pressing against his ribs and- </p><p>"Stay down, you bloody idiot," Harry Potter panted while sitting on the burglar's back and restraining his wrists. </p>
<hr/><p>"ARE YOU A BLOODY IDIOT?" Gawain Robards bellowed. Harry cringed and kept his head down. The Head Auror had spittle flying out of his mouth and Harry didn't want his face to be anywhere near that. Gawain was purple in the face and shaking in disbelief. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT KIND OF DAMAGES WE ARE LOOKING AT, POTTER?" he screamed. "YOU WERE CHASING AFTER A TWO-BIT THIEF! HOW DIFFICULT COULD THAT BE?" </p><p>Harry shifted his weight to his other foot and ducked his head even lower. </p><p>Gawain was very close to throwing a paperweight at the young Auror for his incompetence, but he could hear the voice of his wife ringing in his ear, telling him to calm down and stop throwing things at Harry Potter because it was wreaking havoc with his blood pressure. He took a deep breath instead to calm his nerves. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack. The press was banging at his doors, wanting answers on why half of the shoppers were clamoring for compensation, not to mention the uproar from the shopkeepers who had to deal with the enormous fallen Christmas tree in the middle of their market. "Bloody hell," he swore as he got worked up again. "ARE YOU AN IDIOT OR NOT?" </p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO CONTROL YOURSELF ON YOUR BROOM?"</p><p>"Many times, sir."</p><p>"THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!"</p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>"YOU ARE SUSPENDED!"</p><p>Harry gasped. "What?!"</p><p>"YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FLY FOR TWO MONTHS! NO PATROLS, NO EMERGENCY CALLS-"</p><p>"You can't-"</p><p>"I <em> CAN'T</em>? I <em>CAN'T</em>, POTTER?!" </p><p>"No, you can't do this, sir!" Harry exclaimed. "I said I was sorry! And the placement of that tree was quite clearly in violation of-" </p><p>"GET OUT! GET OUT BEFORE I TAKE YOUR WAND AND BADGE TOO!" </p><p>The cramped locker room was hushed as Harry finally dragged himself in after a thorough dressing down at the hands of his boss. His kicked puppy look was enough to make his team burst into patronizing whoops and catcalls. This was certainly not the first time he had gotten chewed out by the Head Auror, but this was the first time he had done something worthy of thunderous applause. He slumped against his locker headfirst and simply stood there feeling the cold metal against his forehead. This was the worst Christmas Eve ever. </p><p>He felt a soft thump against his back. "We're going out for Christmas drinks," his partner, Chase Lemay, said kindly. "You up for it?" </p><p>"Leave me alone." </p><p>"Oh, come on, Harry," a couple of his coworkers called out. "You need to get blitzed tonight." </p><p>Harry pulled his locker open and attempted to stuff himself inside it, but Chase managed to coax him out. In a matter of minutes, they were in a loud, smoky pub with pitchers of beer and glasses of whiskey being shoved his way. </p><p>"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" he slurred over the din. He was met with a chorus of acknowledgement. "THAT STUPID IDIOT FLEW AT THE TREE! How was I supposed to stop in time?" He slammed the empty tankard onto the table, causing the mugs to rattle. "Robards is after my head," he complained. "I haven't even done anything yet. I <em>haven't</em>." </p><p>"We know." </p><p>Whenever Harry did something foolish, which happened to be rather often, he would always say that he could have done much worse. Ever the optimist. It was a miracle that he hadn't managed to kill someone thus far. Almost ten years on the force and he was sure to send poor Gawain Robards into an early grave. The only reason he still had his job was because he closed a ridiculous number of cases, no matter the ruckus he caused while doing it. And because he was the Boy-Who-Lived.</p><p>"This sucks." He slumped forward onto the sticky, beer-soaked table. "Two months. I'm going to go crazy." </p><p>His partner was his better conscience, always cautious and looking out for him. Chase Lemay was a few years his senior. Robards had paired them up strategically. He knew a character as explosive as Harry Potter would need a cool-headed Auror partner. Chase was a family man with a calm demeanor and the patience of a saint. Harry Potter was a celebrity, a lovable kid who always seemed to get caught with an arm in the cookie jar. At the tender age of seventeen, with the help of a ragtag group of friends, the Order of the Phoenix, and an army of wizards and witches, Harry had led the charge to finally put an end to the Dark Lord's irritating habit of popping up at inopportune times. Voldemort hadn't stood a chance as he was blindsided by double-agents, sneaky magic, sudden destruction of Horcruxes, and a boy who was very, very, <em>very</em> angry with him. Thanks to Harry Potter, the world was a wonderful place with no more threats of dark magic looming in the horizon.</p><p>Yes, Harry Potter was certainly a handful. But Chase didn't mind. The Boy-Who-Lived had a kind heart despite his sly tongue and impulsiveness. He could do great things if he put the right kind of effort into his work. </p><p>Harry stumbled along beside Chase, who was escorting him to his flat. "You have to go home. Peter's waiting, hmm?"</p><p>"It's fine," Chase assured him. Peter was his four-year-old son who was most likely asleep and dreaming about all the presents he would be getting the next day. He had no qualms about his father getting home late from work. As long as he got to meet Harry Potter once in a while for breakfast, he had no qualms at all. Harry Potter was the coolest. "Besides, if <em> you </em> don't get home in one piece," Chase chuckled, "he'll have <em> my </em> head." </p><p>"Heh. I like him. Pete's funny." </p><p>"Harry?" </p><p>"Hmm?" </p><p>"What you did today, it was dangerous," Chase said. He didn’t want this to sound like another lecture, but he felt obligated to try to drill some reason into Harry’s head. The faint creases on his forehead became more prominent. "Do you realize that?" </p><p>"Dangerous?" Harry scoffed. "No way. That was awesome. I caught him, didn't I?" </p><p>"What if someone had gotten hurt?" </p><p>"That won't happen." </p><p>"Why not?" </p><p>"Because I'm Harry Potter." </p><p>Chase sighed in defeat as Harry puffed his chest out and planted his fists on his hips. Really, he was just like a child sometimes. </p><p>"And I won't let you get hurt either," Harry added. "I won't let anyone get hurt." </p><p>"<em>You </em> got hurt," Chase noted while casting a wary glance at the bandage around Harry's forearm and the gauze on the side of his head. </p><p>"These?" Harry snorted in derision. "Get real, man." </p><p>"I am getting very real. You are the one who won't take this seriously." </p><p>Harry didn't respond and the two of them walked a few blocks in silence until they had reached the five-storey apartment complex where Harry stayed. Half of the darkened windows were trimmed with blinking festive lights and the street was abandoned as everyone was already in bed, full from a heavy dinner. </p><p>Harry exhaled loudly and abruptly. "I'm sorry," he apologized.</p><p>"Ah, it's okay," Chase brushed off.</p><p>Harry still seemed despondent. "And Merry Christmas. I hope you like your present." </p><p>"Vicky helped pick yours out, so hopefully you like yours too," Chase said.</p><p>Harry tsked. "You guys are the best." </p><p>"You have a great Christmas." </p><p>"I'll try." </p><p>Once Harry had gotten up to the third floor with some difficulties along the way, it took him two tries to actually get into his home. He felt awfully nauseous from the climb and the events of the day was starting to push its way back into his mind with crushing force. He really was in a whole heap of trouble...</p><p>He staggered to a halt by the entrance to his tiny living room. The holiday tree that stood in the corner was illuminated with soft while lights and there were presents under it, overflowing onto the rug where his favorite dog in the whole world – Scout, a one-year-old field terrier with jet black fur - was snoozing. Harry smiled as he tiptoed over and knelt down to stroke Scout's soft head. The dog never yelled at him or made him feel bad.</p><p>He curled up next to Scout and decided that the rug was a great place to sleep on the worst Christmas Eve ever.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Merry Christmas!" Harry cheered when the worn white door opened. His grin fell the instant he saw the expression on Professor Snape. "Oh." It wasn't a very pleasant expression. </p><p>Severus had his jaw set firmly and his lips were pursed into a very thin line. "Do you have any idea what sort of a spectacle you made yourself out to be?" he asked in a chilled tone. He stepped back to let the young man into the house. Once they were in the drab living room, Severus grabbed the Daily Prophet off the coffee table and thrust it into Harry's hand. "See for yourself." </p><p>Harry cringed when he saw the enormous photograph that graced the front page, complete with a wide shot of the fallen tree and broken stalls. Underneath was the title: <b> BURGLAR BUNGLES CHRISTMAS </b>: BOY-WHO-LIVED IN HOT WATER. "Ah see, I can explain," he started stammering. </p><p>But Severus would have none of it. "Just like your father," he snapped. "Absolutely irresponsible. Do you think you're invincible?" </p><p>"No, of course not. No one's invincible-" </p><p>"This is real life. Real life where real people live real lives." </p><p>"I know, but I-" </p><p>"Your luck will run out soon enough." </p><p>"I'm sorry. I know."</p><p>"It is high time you took responsibility for your actions." Severus gritted his teeth together to stop the rest of his sharp words when he noticed that Harry was no longer looking at him. He took the paper from Harry's hands and set it aside before perching on the low table opposite him. "What's wrong?" He reached out to touch the small piece of gauze on the side of the young man's head. "Does it hurt?" </p><p>Harry shook his head vehemently. </p><p>"Tell me," Severus said, a quiet demand.</p><p>"I'm not allowed to fly for two months."</p><p>Severus paused. If it had been anyone else who had said that statement with the same heavy weight and sorrow Harry had used, he would have scoffed without thinking twice. However, flying was something entirely different for Harry. If he had his way, he would be in the sky all day and all night long. The worst punishment for him was this exactly. The Head Auror certainly knew his subordinates well. </p><p>"I know I was being stupid." Harry looked miserable. "I'm sorry. I just feel really bad today." </p><p>"I see that." Severus, to his credit, didn’t crack a smile. "How about you open your present? Will that make you feel better?" </p><p>Harry shrugged.</p><p>"Alright." </p><p>Sure enough, as soon as he had opened the case of silverware, Harry was beaming. Severus always got him practical gifts. Now he had proper utensils for his home. He set the small wooden container to the side. "Thank you. I love it." </p><p>"Yes, well…" Severus said awkwardly, "I can't understand how you've survived this long without proper spoons and knives." </p><p>Harry had wondered that often as well. Maybe he was just waiting for Severus to buy them for him. "Okay. Your turn." He handed over a large box wrapped in red wrapping paper. Severus unwrapped it carefully to reveal a crystal collection of assorted vials. "For your potions.” </p><p>"I see that," Severus said with some appreciation. </p><p>"Is it what you wanted?" Harry pressed him. </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"I knew it." </p><p>After breakfast at Spinner's End, Harry had to be off to 12 Grimmauld Place for lunch with his godfather. </p><p>Sirius Black pulled Harry into a jovial hug as soon as he had opened the door. "Did you see the newspaper?" He laughed heartily. "That's my boy!" </p><p>"I made a spectacle of myself," Harry muttered under his breath, repeating Severus' sentiments word for word. </p><p>"You sure did!" Sirius was eager to tug his godson through the main foyer where the Christmas party was already in full swing. "Look who's here!" he announced. </p><p>Harry was greeted with applause and hoots, much to his embarrassment and thrill. He grinned sheepishly as he was pulled into boozy hugs and kisses. Sirius kept odd company. His company also changed very often, so Harry had no idea who half these people were. They all knew him, of course. The house was decorated from top to bottom in red and gold. The curtains were pulled open to let in the snowy sunlight and everything smelt of sugar and cinnamon. There was an enormous tree in the middle of the house. Around it, instead of presents, was a circular table full of food and drinks. Cheery carols crooned out of gramophones hidden around the home. This celebration could actually last until New Years Eve, from the looks of it.</p><p>"Harry," Remus Lupin welcomed with a warm smile. "You've looked better." He eyed the bandage around the young man’s arm. "Too much excitement?" </p><p>"I got carried away," Harry admitted. "I know, I know." </p><p>"Glad you know," Remus chuckled. "And I'm most certainly glad to see you in one piece. I imagine Severus wasn't very happy with you." </p><p>"He... wasn't pleased, no." </p><p>He thumped Harry's shoulder. "What is done is done and you have learned from it, I hope," he proclaimed. "Today is hardly the day to dwell on things." His attention slipped for a moment and his eyes darted over Harry's shoulder as his smile widened. </p><p>Before Harry could turn around, he was struck against the back without warning, causing him to trip over his feet. Remus quickly righted him. Harry turned around to meet Nymphadora Tonks, who was also in the process of regaining the balance she had lost when she caught a corner of the rug. "Hey, Harry," she beamed without missing a beat. "Fancy running into you." </p><p>"Ah, come on." </p><p>"You're supposed to laugh at bad jokes on Christmas day." </p><p>"I don't think I'll ever laugh at your jokes, Tonks." He eyed her colorful cropped hair that was a vibrant red and green. "I like your do. Very festive." </p><p>"Thank you." She curtsied. "Very kind of you to say." </p><p>"Where's Ted?" </p><p>"Here I am!" </p><p>Harry looked down to find little Teddy Lupin running up to him. He picked Teddy up and planted a firm kiss on his chubby toddler cheek. "What did you get me for Christmas?"</p><p>"What did <em> you </em> get <em> me</em>?" Teddy asked in turn. </p><p>"I can't tell you. It's a surprise." </p><p>"It's a surprise for you too." </p><p>"Ah, I love surprises," Harry grinned. </p><p>"I love surprises too!" Teddy wriggled to get down on the ground. "Let's go eat food!" </p><p>"Sounds like a wonderful plan to me.” Harry waved at Remus and Tonks as he was pulled towards the buffet table. </p><p>After a long and musical afternoon at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry had to make his way to the Burrow for even more festivities. </p><p>"HARRY'S HERE!" Fred and George harmonized perfectly before letting him through the doorway into the crowded living room. </p><p>"About time, dear," Molly said while fawning over his hurt arm and head. "It's not hurting, is it? Have you redressed it? Taken your potions? Rested?" </p><p>"No, yes, yes, and yes," Harry answered dutifully. "I'm all grown up now. Ron's the one who cries whenever he gets hurt." </p><p>"Hey!" Ron called out from across the room where he was helping Arthur roast chestnuts for the children. "I heard that." </p><p>Hermione hugged Harry once Molly was done with her fussing. "Professor Snape chewed you out, didn't he?" </p><p>"Hmph." </p><p>"It's okay. You're just really accident-prone. We'll leave things at that, shall we?" </p><p>Harry spent the rest of Christmas with the Weasleys, eating to his heart's content, drinking eggnog, singing Christmas carols, and pelting snowballs in the garden. He opened tons of presents, ranging from sweaters and cookies to Quidditch tickets and a brand-new pair of riding gloves. It turned out to be a pretty awesome Christmas after all. </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the last floor of the Ministry building, there is a magical place affectionately referred to as the 'Broom Closet'. Upon exiting the elevator into a quiet and empty hall, one had to simply walk five meters to the inconspicuous oak doors. </p><p>It opened into an enormous gallery with plain white walls, linoleum floors and a ceiling that extended many, many meters upwards. Broomsticks ran laps, unmanned, along the top. Below were workbenches, worn equipment, and people dressed in grey overalls either performing inspections or dictating to floating quills that took down their words on pieces of parchment. Along one-quarter of the circular wall were fireplaces that flickered with green flames in timed intervals. More doors led further into the deep offices of the Department of Transportation, where there were laboratories that tested range of Portkeys, safety of Apparition in certain areas of the country, and kept watch on the traffic in the sky, especially in the Muggle areas. </p><p>Harry snuck in and stuck to the walls. He just wanted to look, that's all. Robards hadn't said anything about refraining from <em> looking </em>at brooms, had he? The Broom Closet was less crowded than usual because it was the day after Christmas and many of the workers were still enjoying their few days off. He sidled up to the small open cabinet where Ministry broomsticks were displayed, gleaming and stamped appropriately after servicing. His own broom stood in the middle, looking oh so lonely. Harry knew that if he reached out to even touch it, he would be compelled to fly away. So, he kept his hands to his side firmly. </p><p>Two months. </p><p>Torture. </p><p>He lifted his head and glanced around when his ears picked up on a quiet whistle. It was a familiar tune, so he could pick it out from the hustle and bustle of the inspection room. He stepped away from the cabinet hurriedly to make sure he won't get in trouble just as his eyes honed in on a familiar face standing by an unmarked door on the other side of the room. </p><p>Draco Malfoy piqued a brow at him. Harry deflated a bit and scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. Draco tilted his head to the side and stepped back through the open door. Harry nervously walked to the nondescript door and entered it. He had never been in one of the workrooms before. </p><p>His eyes widened as soon as the enormity of the room registered. The walls and ceiling were stark white, almost seamless because of how light seemed to cast no shadows. Along the wall was a white counter on which sat many strange silver instruments with dials, buttons, and knobs. But what really caught his attention was the beauty floating in the middle of the room about a meter off the ground. </p><p>He couldn't stop himself from moving towards it. </p><p>The newest Firebolt. </p><p>Sleek and sophisticated as all Firebolts looked, this one was made of grey wood and the footholds were a matte black, giving the broom a rather sinister look. The bristles were slender and silky, tipped with a touch of silver at the very end, causing the broom to appear as though it was about to catch on fire. Marvelous… </p><p>Lazy footsteps echoed in the silent chamber. Draco stopped short of the Firebolt, eyeing it with some envy. "What do you think?" he asked. </p><p>Harry was speechless so he couldn't answer.</p><p>Draco understood. He nodded pensively. "It's not out in the market for a few months yet." He raised his hand and ran a finger down the smooth stem. "Powerful. Zero to two hundred in ten seconds. Two ten, if you're good. Water and fire resistant. Classic ashwood body. Unbreakable. Trigger precision. She can practically hear you think." His eyes darted up to meet Harry's. "Want to try it?" </p><p>Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I…" He trailed off. </p><p>"Yes?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Draco smirked and stepped back. </p><p>Harry hesitantly touched the Firebolt with his thumb, a chill running down his spine as soon as he felt the cool, polished surface. He wrapped the rest of his fingers around the broom. How could a Firebolt feel this light? He lowered it, feeling it yield to even the slightest touch. He mounted and closed his other hand over the broom as well before pushing off gently. His feet left the ground and the broom held steady while he floated in midair. Such pure balance. He tilted his body to the right and the broom followed without a moment's hesitation. A new broom was always so impressionable. He leaned forward, prompting the Firebolt to slowly float towards the other end of the room. </p><p>Draco waved his wand at the ceiling. </p><p>Harry heard a faint crack, which made him look up. The roof stretched and morphed in front of his eyes, moving upwards steadily. </p><p>He didn't need to be asked twice. </p><p>He took off like a speeding bullet, spiraling upwards so fast he couldn't even breathe. Magical. Incredible. Perfect. </p><p>He slowed to a halt just before reaching the very top. He looked down and he could barely see anything at all, not even Draco. He flew down a little way until he was able to breathe easier. Then he started doing flips and corkscrews and sudden accelerations and twists. It was almost as though he was flying all on his own. He was able to appreciate the little nuances. He knew this would be a highly impractical broom for recreational flyers. It was a bit too testy and feline. No doubt expensive. But if the Quidditch league were to allow this on the fields… He shivered to think of how spectacular the games would look. </p><p>He spun back down to reality a little while later, landing gracefully on the ground with a dazed grin. He took a moment to catch his bearings so the world would stop turning on its head. </p><p>"So?" </p><p>All he could do was laugh helplessly at Draco, who was sitting on the stainless steel counter with a clipboard in hand. Was he supposed to explain that? Was he supposed to say what he had felt flying on the fastest broom known to man? He couldn't even put it into words. He couldn't do anything but laugh. </p><p>He staggered over to the workbench and gently laid the Firebolt on it. "You haven't tried it yet?"</p><p>"No." Draco tapped his quill against the parchment while examining the broomstick critically. "It's a little overwhelming." </p><p>"It is," Harry agreed. </p><p>"How was it?" </p><p>"I can't explain it." He shook his head. What was he feeling? This intensity and passion, it was overpowering. "It's so hard to explain." He felt so many emotions. "I just feel..." How could he make Draco understand? "Happy, I guess?" He shrugged. "Does that help?" </p><p>"Not really," Draco murmured. "But nothing we can do about that. You're hardly the articulate type." </p><p>Harry brushed that comment away easily. "Ah, well, it's hard to explain, that's all," he maintained. "And thanks for letting me have a go." </p><p>"I heard about the suspension." </p><p>"I figured." </p><p>"Not very smooth on your part." </p><p>"I get tired of being smooth all the time," Harry said flippantly. "It's a tough job, being me." </p><p>"Mhm," Draco nodded in a patronizing manner. "I don't doubt it." </p><p>"Hey?" </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"Any reason you let me have a go?" </p><p>An abrupt smile flashed over Draco's face. "Can't you guess?" </p><p>Harry thought about it. Draco did always have an ulterior motive to any favors he grants. What did Harry have that Draco would want? Nothing, really. In fact, Draco had more of everything. More and more and more of it. "What are you up to?" </p><p>Draco examined his nails with avid interest. "There's a rumor coming down the grapevine.” </p><p>"What sort of rumor?" </p><p>"A surprising one." </p><p>"Aren't you going to tell me?" </p><p>"Don't you want to guess?" </p><p>Harry frowned at Draco. "Well, whatever you're planning on doing, I want no part of it. You make vile schemes, just like your father." </p><p>"Let's not drag family into this," Draco chided. "We all know what you and Uncle Sev think of Father. You've made it excessively clear." </p><p>Harry bit his tongue and felt a little bit guilty. But not much. Lucius was the worst man ever and had the most regressive thinking bar none. For years he had been a part of the Wizengamot and exerted enormous amount of pressures towards laws that segregated half-creatures, rewarded pure blood families, and financially hurt Muggleborns. He had been voted out of the board many years ago, but he was still a discriminatory, misogynistic, and demanding man. </p><p>Severus disliked Lucius' abuse of power. </p><p>Harry hated Lucius' ego. </p><p>They both made sure Draco knew exactly how they felt about his father. </p><p>"Fine," Harry sighed. "You aren't as bad as him." </p><p>"Thank you." </p><p>"But I still want no part in this." </p><p>"Oh, you won't have a choice, Potter," Draco said smugly. </p><p>"In what?" Harry exclaimed. "I've got nothing you want." He broke off to stare at Malfoy's pleased expression. What did he have that Draco didn't have? All Draco wanted to was money and power. In terms of money, the Malfoys were one of the wealthiest wizarding families in the world. In terms of power...</p><p>Realization began to dawn on Harry.</p><p>"Have you figured it out?" Draco hummed.</p><p>Harry had seen the signs. He had conveniently turned a blind eye to those signs, but the signs had been there all along. Why hadn't he noticed them earlier? "That's not possible.” </p><p>Draco enjoyed watching Harry sweat more than he cared to admit. "After the debacle on Christmas Eve, who knows what's going to happen. But I heard the news last week." He leaned back and peered at Harry. "Why do you think Robards was... how shall I say this... unusually cruel?" </p><p>Harry felt his head spinning. "Are you certain, Draco?" </p><p>"You would make a strange Head Auror, Potter. I mean, it's almost impractical, given your track record, if you ask me. But you must be pretty good at your job for them to consider you." </p><p>Head Auror? Harry gulped. Him? A <em>Head</em> Auror? He was only twenty-six. He would run the Ministry to the ground! He would knock over a dozen holiday trees every year! He would break an arm and a leg and a rib every single week! He would be splashed on the front page of the Prophet more often than any other Head Auror in wizarding history!</p><p>He would be a disaster! </p><p>"Robards has been talking about retiring for nearly two years now," Draco continued without paying attention to Harry's panic attack. "And all anyone talks about is how you caught some crook or solved some case. I don't know how you do it, but you have a way with people. It's infuriating. You aren't even trying to get ahead in life. Everything just gets handed to you on a silver platter." Draco was getting riled up now. He huffed out his frustration. "Now they are going to be handing over an entire nation's law enforcement department to you. Imagine the responsibility. These opportunities just keep landing on your lap, don't they? You are one lucky-"</p><p>Harry blinked. </p><p>There was blackness around him.</p><p>Blackness and silence. Everything suddenly ceased to exist. He felt the nothingness against his skin and in his mind. Emptiness. </p><p>Terrifying emptiness. </p><p>He was alone.</p><p>"<em>No. Not alone, Harry</em>." </p><p>The voice was a soft whisper, both calming and powerful at the same time. </p><p>"<em>This is an incredibly poignant time for you. Soon, your life will be everything you have ever imagined it to be. You will have the world at your fingertips and you will soar. You will never be alone</em>." </p><p>A shard of white light burst through the blackness, shattering it. </p><p>"<em>You have much to be thankful for.</em>" </p><p>His heart sank into the pit of his stomach with a sickening lurch when he heard his mother's scream and saw a bright flash of green. </p><p>"<em>If just a few men chose differently…</em>" </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry sank to his knees as disturbing images came into focus in quick succession – pictures of death, pain, suffering, blood, tears, sacrifices, and so much hurt. It didn't make sense. Visions of Albus Dumbledore clawing at his throat with a rotten hand, Draco Malfoy covered in blood and shuddering on a floor, Ron Weasley sobbing near the dead body of his big bother, Sirius Black falling through a veil, Ginevra Weasley screaming in anguish, Severus Snape staring at him as his life disappeared...</p><p>"<em>A different life, Harry. A different you, shaped by the choices of few who had incredible power. A different you who has seen too much sadness, felt too much death, heard too many cries. A different you with a burden. A burden to get better, to live on, to be happy once more.</em>" </p><p>The images and voice ceased. </p><p>A heavy heart beat against his ribs. There was blackness all around him; an oppressive, helpless darkness that threatened to swallow his whole existence. </p><p>And he saw himself. </p><p>There, off to the side, standing alone in the blackness, Harry stood silent. Another Harry. To another him, the emptiness was welcome. To another him, the silence was what he had been craving for years. To another him, just a few moments of not existing was perfect. </p><p>"No," Harry groaned as he watched another him fall backwards and land onto soft nothingness. He scrambled to another his fallen body. When he touched another his cheek, it felt cold. Another him had been in pain for too long. Another him had lived such a hard life. "Please," Harry begged. "Don't give up." </p><p>"<em>He wants to sleep for a little while. </em>" </p><p>"Sleep?"</p><p>"<em>Darkness is better than nightmares. Quietness is better than screams. He needs to dream for some time. He has not given up. He is you. You would not give up, would you, Harry?</em>" </p><p>He would never. "Can I help him?" Harry asked.</p><p>"<em>You can do more than you know.</em>" </p><p>He jerked wildly and fell to what felt like a great distance...</p><p>...only to tumble onto a cold, stone floor. </p><p>He floundered like a drowning man for a few moments before realizing that he had landed. He looked around. He was in an enormously ornate office. He jumped up to his feet. This wasn't the Department of Transportation. Draco was gone. He was alone in this place. The room was furnished with grand oak furniture - a row of bookshelves against one wall, a couple of sofas around an ornate marble fireplace that was crackling, one writing desk cluttered with parchment, books, quills, folders, and letters, large windows that had heavy green drapes pulled shut, but still let in slivers of light, and-</p><p>His hand brushed against a cold metal badge pinned at his chest.</p><p>He paused to look down.</p><p>"GAAAAH!" </p><p>The heavy doors to the office was shoved open and a short, haggard bald gentleman in a crumpled maroon robe appeared, wide eyed and slack jawed. "S-sir?" he stammered. "A-are you alright?" </p><p>"Uh, uh, uh, I, uh, I fell asleep," Harry stuttered back. He looked down at himself once again. He was wearing the Head Auror badge. He was Head Auror. "Wait, where-" He stopped himself. "No, uh, when-" He stopped himself again. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "What day is it?" he finally asked. </p><p>"Th-the twenty sixth. T-twenty sixth of December, s-sir." </p><p>It was the same day. "And... the year?"</p><p>The man looked at him strangely. "Two thousand six?"</p><p>It was the same year. "Right, of course," Harry said, attempting to appear flippant as he smacked his forehead with his hand. "How could I forget?" Now to figure out who this unfamiliar character was. An assistant, no doubt, from the maroon robe he had on. The bald man looked to be about forty and rather nervous. His cheeks were flushed and he wouldn't stop shaking. In fact, he seemed to be clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from clattering together. "Erm, are you ill?"</p><p>"N-no, sir," came the curt response. </p><p>Harry glanced around for a clock. "Know the time?" </p><p>The scrawny man lifted his fist to peer at his wristwatch. "Nearly nine, sir."</p><p>"Right." Harry was starting to get worried for this anxious man. He approached the doorway with gradual steps. </p><p>The assistant's eyes grew even wider, but he seemed unable to move at all. "S-sir?" he squeaked faintly. </p><p>"No, nothing," Harry said. </p><p>Perhaps he had managed to underestimate the power of his words. </p><p>His assistant suddenly bent over double and retched, spewing a meager breakfast all over the carpet. </p><p>Harry quickly darted forward to catch him before he could faint. He was shaking like a leaf. "Oh dear." He was crying, poor chap. "It's alright." Harry escorted his assistant to one of the chairs that sat by the fireplace. The man was blubbering and apologizing so rapidly that none of his words made any sense. Harry conjured up a glass of water. "Drink this." </p><p>"I-I'm sorry," the man hiccupped before downing the water in an instant. </p><p>"I know. It's most unfortunate. On Christmas, no less." Harry flicked his wand at the mess on the floor to clear it up. "Do you think you can make it home on your own?" </p><p>"Huh?" </p><p>"Unless you want to take a moment to gather yourself first before you go. That's fine too." </p><p>The man was staring up at Harry as though he had grown a second head. </p><p>"No?" Harry was at a loss. "You can rest here, I suppose. But I think it would be best if you went to a nurse or-" </p><p>"Oh!" He had suddenly caught on. "To rest, sir? I-I can go home. I'm sorry. I'll go home." He struggled to get up. </p><p>As soon as he was on his feet, he was swaying dangerously. </p><p>Harry held him steady before he could drop like a dead weight. While the ill man started blubbering once more and apologizing with no end in sight, Harry saw a bag of Floo Powder conveniently placed on the mantle of the marble fireplace. "Here. We'll just use the Floo. Will it be open on your end? Is someone at home?" </p><p>"M-mother should have it o-open." </p><p>After a few tries, Harry managed to drag his assistant over to the fireplace. "Where do you live?" he asked. He made sure that he had the address right, then he threw the powder in and walked into the green flames. </p><p>They ended up in a flowery living room with white lace curtains and baby blue sofas. To greet them was a small, plump old woman in a flowery apron. Her expression quickly shifted from confusion to recognition to shock. "Lionel!" she gasped. "What's happened?" She hurried to her son's aid. </p><p>"He wasn't feeling well," Harry answered for Lionel, who was lowering himself onto the couch. </p><p>Lionel's mother stopped short with the same aghast expression her son had on the moment she recognized who had carried Lionel in. "Merlin’s beard, Mr. Harry Potter!" she blurted out in fright. "I'm sorry. You didn't have to-" She suddenly turned to her son and started boxing his red ears. "I told you to call in sick," she hissed at him. </p><p>"It's fine," Harry quickly interjected before Lionel could burst into more tears. "Really, it's alright. He couldn't make it home on his own, that's all." </p><p>"I'm so sorry, Mr. Potter," Lionel's mother expressed her genuine regret. "You simply must forgive my son. This is such a nuisance. You are so busy. Do you know what he said to me this morning?" </p><p>"Mum, please don’t-" </p><p>"He says, 'Mr. Potter never calls in sick. I can't call in sick either.' Doesn't that just grind your gears?" She laughed nervously. Lionel cringed and kept his eyes on his lap. </p><p>Harry laughed nervously with her. "Er… Right. Well, I'm sure if I were to get as sick as you, I would take a personal day, Lionel," he said. He could see Lionel shrinking into himself. </p><p>"Always the worrier, my son." </p><p>"Mother, stop it." </p><p>"Yes… So… I should go…" Harry trailed off until there was only awkward silence. When neither mother nor son deigned to speak, he took that as permission to leave. He made a quick exit through the Floo, back to his new office. </p><p>He ventured towards the glass cabinet to look at his reflection. He appeared… older. He touched the lines on his forehead, trying to smooth it out. His hair was much shorter and he wore glasses. He examined his hands. So many scars. </p><p>He spun around to take another deep breath. He was going to start screaming now. He hoped no one would come running in again. </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Another Harry inhaled sharply. For a second, he had felt as though he had fallen to a great depth. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, to physically reassure himself that he wasn't about to be sick. </p><p>His gaze focused on Draco Malfoy sitting on a stainless steel table and gesticulating wildly with a quill in one hand and a clipboard in the other, wearing a grey Transportation Inspector coverall.</p><p>Draco stopped mid-rant when he saw Harry's horrified expression. He dropped his arms to his sides and cocked his head while frowning. "Are you even listening to me?" </p><p>Harry spun away and brought a fist to his mouth to stifle the curse at the tip of his tongue as he flicked his eyes around the room he was in. Where was he? He had been in his office just a moment ago, finishing up that report for Kingsley. He must have fallen asleep. This must be a dream.</p><p>"Potter?" </p><p>He jumped and looked back at Malfoy, someone who hadn't entered his thoughts in many years. "You need to get a grip," Draco said. He waited for an answer. When he was met with silence, he continued. "Robards wouldn't choose you if he didn't think you were ready. He thinks you're most capable. Besides," he chuckled, "You're Harry Potter and you can be anything you want. Right?" </p><p>Hearing Malfoy speak so candidly and with ease was unnerving. Harry didn't know how to respond.</p><p>"Uncle Sev might even say something nice to you. Imagine that," Draco added in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense mood.</p><p>Harry had to get out of there. "I have to go." He didn't listen for a response. He hurried out the door. He needed to get into a saner space. He stopped short as soon as he had shut the door behind him. He was in the Department of Transportation. Why was he dreaming about this? He had to wake up. He needed to figure out what was going on. He had to get back to his office. </p><p>"There you are." </p><p>Before he had a chance to regroup, he was jerked aside by a sharp tug at his arm. He had no choice but to follow after voicing a strangled yelp. He looked up at Chase Lemay in wonder, much too astonished to say a word of protest. </p><p>Chase, in the meantime, was a bit peeved. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he hissed. "You aren't even allowed to set foot in this place. Are you trying to get on Robards' nerves?" He pulled Harry around the edge of the testing area and stormed to the main doors. Only after exiting the Broom Closet did he stop. He let out a huge gush of air and whipped around to glare at Harry. "You said you weren't going to cause trouble again," he snapped. "On top of your suspension, you decide to go gallivanting to the <em>one</em> department where you should definitely not be in?! Or were you just trying to stir things up? For your sake, Harry, you <em>need</em> to start following the rules." Chase threw his hands up in exasperation. "What are you staring at me for? Say something!" </p><p>Harry didn't know what to say. Why was his subordinate yelling at him? What suspension? And what's all this about Gawain Robards? Robards had retired. 'I have given the better part of my life to this godforsaken place and I deserve a break, damn it,' he had said at his retirement dinner a few years ago. Also, if this was a dream, why did everything feel real? Harry looked around him again. There were no endless hallways or slithering snakes that often showed up in his nightmares. Instead, he was at the Ministry of Magic. It was Christmas time. There were twinkling lights wrapped around pillars, green garlands atop elevators, and faint Yule music playing somewhere far away.</p><p>"Are you alright?" Chase asked after studying Harry for a beat. "Are you sick?" He reached up to press the back of his hand to Harry's forehead, only to pull back when Harry flinched away. "Hey-" </p><p>"Excuse me," Harry blurted out before running to the washroom around the corner. </p><p>Once confirming that he had the loo to himself, he fumbled to get his wand out and lock the door so no one would get in. He leaned against a wall and took a moment to himself. He closed his eyes as he struggled to recollect his last memories before this dream. He had been cooped up in his office for the past few days, trying to finish up paperwork. Holidays were the worst time of the year because his staff was away and work kept pouring in. To avoid a mess in the coming weeks, he had decided to push through Christmas and finish up as much as he could before he was burnt out. </p><p>He had to have fallen asleep. That had to be it. </p><p>He kicked the tiled wall with the heel of his shoe and let out a quiet curse. He had to wake up. </p><p>He strode over to the sinks and turned on the squeaking taps. He didn't wait for the water to warm up. He cupped cold water in his hands and splashed his face. "Wake up," he muttered to himself. "Wake up. Don’t lost it now, Potter." He wiped his face with his sleeve and blinked water from his lashes. "Ow." He shut his eyes again. It felt like sand had gotten into them. He rubbed his scrunched-up eyelids in an attempt to get rid of the discomfort. When it didn't help, he opened his eyes and peered into the mirror.  </p><p>He jerked back with a gasp.</p><p>That wasn't him.</p><p>This wasn't him at all!</p><p>He backed up against the bathroom stall. This wasn't possible. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair. It hadn't been this long since Hogwarts. He reached down to pat at his chest. He didn't have his Head Auror badge. That means Gawain Robards is still the Head Auror. He rolled his sore wrist that was wrapped in a tensor bandage. When had he gotten hurt? Why didn't this feel like a dream? </p><p>He hesitantly walked forward to the mirror again.</p><p>This wasn't him, but somehow it was.</p><p>He swept his hair back, revealing a gauze stuck to the side of his forehead. The lightning scar was still visible. He slid his hand down his cheek, over his smooth chin instead of his characteristic stubble. He gripped the sides of the sink as he got an eyeful of himself.</p><p>This was someone else – some other Harry. </p><p>He jolted when a short knock disturbed the sound of running water. </p><p>Chase had been pacing outside the bathroom for the past three minutes, growing more and more impatient. He should have noticed that something was up with Harry when he had put up no argument to being told off. He should have noticed Harry's dazed expression and pale complexion.  </p><p>When Harry finally exited the washroom, Chase was at his wit's end out of concern. "Are you ill?" he asked at once. "Maybe you should go down to the infirmary. Did you take your potions today? You know the nurse said you could feel sick to the stomach from that. You shouldn't have come down here. You don't have to-" </p><p>"I'm fine," Harry interjected. "It's nothing. I... had a long day yesterday." </p><p>"Are you sure?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"You think you're alright to work? It's just reports and statements this week, busywork. How's your head?" </p><p>Harry brushed his fingers against the damp gauze half-hidden by his hair. "It's fine." He hoped that was the case.</p><p>"You're going to be the death of me," Chase said under his breath. </p><p>Harry followed his partner downstairs without further conversation. He discreetly examined his wand as they weaved through the thin crowd in the corridors. This was his wand. It was a lot less beat up though. He rubbed his eyes again. He really needed to get the lenses out so he could wear some comfortable spectacles. If he was just a regular Auror, he probably had a pair in his locker. After that, he would have to work out what had happened.</p><p>"What did your folks think about all the ruckus?" Chase wanted to know. Harry wasn't sure what ruckus he was supposed to comment on. Chase glanced back at him with a smirk while gesturing at his head and wrist. </p><p>"Oh, these," Harry realized quickly. He figured his 'folks' wouldn't have been too happy with him. Everyone regarded him as precious porcelain in that aspect. No matter how many times he told the Weasleys that this was an occupational hazard of being an Auror, they continued to badger him when he got into scuffles with perps. These days, he had gone as far as hiding his injuries from them to stop their incessant worrying. "They weren't thrilled." It was most likely the truth.</p><p>"No doubt," Chase chuckled. "Although, I bet Sirius had something to gloat about, huh?" </p><p>Harry stumbled. "What?" </p><p>"He practically throws you a party every time you’re in the papers, doesn't he? You were the one complaining about that." Chase shook his head. "Sometimes I think you're a glutton for punishment. Or maybe you secretly like all the fuss. Anyway, I hope you also told him how much trouble you've gotten yourself into to get that front page fame."</p><p>Sirius? Sirius Black? But how? Harry clenched his fists, his nails digging hard into his palm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Burrow was bustling with dinner sounds and squeals of kids. The house was still overflowing with Christmas cheer that was left over from the day before. Eggnog ran aplenty and Yuletide carols were crooning out of an old player. Everyone was dressed in Christmas sweaters that Grandma Molly had knitted painstakingly. Outside in the garden were snow forts and snowmen armies from the past two days, complete with crumbled snowballs and makeshift flags. Christmas at the Burrow lasted as long as possible. </p>
<p>Hermione was helping Rose into her tiny snow boots by the muddy front door when she heard a faint knock, just barely audible over the ruckus behind her. Rose blinked at her mother without taking her thumb out of her mouth. "Now who could that be?" Hermione wondered aloud to her daughter. Rose shrugged. "Do you want to go open the door?" Hermione asked. She shook her head and then proceeded to plop down on the floor. She would rather feast on her thumb. Hermione tugged at Rose's pigtail playfully before getting up off the stair to answer the knock. </p>
<p>Her smile faded when she saw who was at the door. "Harry?"</p>
<p>"Hey."</p>
<p>"Didn't you...? I thought you had work," she said in confusion. </p>
<p>Harry smiled awkwardly. </p>
<p>Hermione was quick to shake out of her bewilderment. "Ah, what am I saying?" She laughed and reached out to pull him in. "Everyone's going to be thrilled. We didn't think we'd get to see you!" She gestured for him to take off his winter things and then disappeared further inside the Burrow to round up Molly and Ron. </p>
<p>As Harry unwound his scarf and pocketed his gloves, he saw little Rose staring at him without blinking. He jerked his brows at the girl quizzically. "What?"</p>
<p>Rose leaned back and lifted up her socked foot. "Shoe," she answered simply. </p>
<p>When Molly hurried to the front of the house with Hermione and Ron in tow, she was privy to Harry struggling to get Rose fitted with her sparkly pink winter boot. "My goodness," he grunted. "You have the most uncooperative foot ever." Rose giggled and wiggled her toes around to make it that much harder for Harry. "Oh, come on. You wanted help," he huffed. </p>
<p>"Wrong foot, Harry," Hermione said helpfully.</p>
<p>Harry paused and glanced from Rose's left foot to the right boot. </p>
<p>Rose fell backwards in peals of laughter because this was all just too much for her to handle. </p>
<p>"I knew that," Harry blustered at the squealing girl. "I was just testing you." </p>
<p>"Here," Hermione cut in by kneeling down beside the two of them. "I've got it." </p>
<p>Harry narrowed his eyes at Rose before getting up and brushing the mud off his hands. He was making a bad 'first' impression. He quickly turned to Molly with a bright smile. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he hugged her. "I lost track of time at the office." </p>
<p>"You're just in time for dinner," Molly assured him. After letting go of him, she ushered him in. </p>
<p>Ron held him back a bit before they could walk into the dining room. "Hey, you alright?" he asked. Harry frowned. Ron said, "I didn’t think you could come over this week. Everything fine at work?" </p>
<p>"A bit hectic," Harry said in an attempt to be as vague as possible. </p>
<p>Ron shrugged. "Whatever. It's okay." He gestured for Harry to follow Molly in. "I'll see if I can talk Rose out of playing outside." </p>
<p>Harry was unsettled by the exchange. </p>
<p>Actually, he had been unsettled ever since he opened the first of 'his' journals. He had had a very strange and enlightening day. He had locked himself in 'his' Head Auror office for many hours and then rummaged through all of 'his' Head Auror possessions. He didn't have to look too hard to find journals. He had been going over them all day long. The words did not paint a pretty picture. There was great unrest in 'his' mind. Each entry started with how his night had gone, mostly nightmares or lucid dreams. His life revolved around work. He hardly had anything written down about friends or family. He most likely never saw his friends and family, which explains why they weren't in any of the journals. Perhaps being the Head Auror kept him busy but, more likely than not, he was avoiding them. </p>
<p>It wasn't long before Harry met with the rest of the Weasleys and their hugs. His eyes widened when he clapped eyes on Teddy. This wasn't the same four-year-old brat he knew and loved. This Teddy must be close to Hogwarts age. Perhaps the war had sped Remus and Tonks' relationship up. "Hey," he said as Teddy hugged him half-heartedly. This was weird, like he was seeing into a warped future. He didn't even get a chance to hug Teddy back because the boy had moved away already and gone back to the other children. </p>
<p>George tsked at Harry from across the table once they started to get themselves situated around the enormous meal. "What?" Harry asked. </p>
<p>"Poor form not showing up yesterday," the earless Weasley said plainly. </p>
<p>While Harry blushed, the rest of the family either glared at George or did one better by kicking him under the table. "It's fine, Harry," Arthur was quick to say in an attempt to ease the tension. "It's always busy this time of the year, especially for your department." </p>
<p>Harry wondered if Robards ever went home for Christmas. Did being Head Auror mean that you had to miss all the best parts of the year? He didn't say anything and stared at his plate of heaping food sheepishly. He would hate to miss Christmas.</p>
<p>The other Harry probably felt really bad about missing yesterday's festivities. </p>
<p>Everyone soon settled down to eat. Hermione and Ron managed to dissuade their daughter from going outside. Rose was made to sit with her cousins at the children's table where she happily enjoyed mashed potatoes. The adults had their own conversations, most of the stories provided by Charlie and Bill. Who knows how many of those were made up? Each one sounded more fantastical than the one before. The brothers always liked to one up each other. There were tales of fighting dragons, shooting frost, and dagger wielding imps. Percy and Ron kept calling bull, which merely led their brothers to heckle them down boisterously so they could continue on with their anecdotes.</p>
<p>"George, you tell them how close you came to getting your hair fried by the Longhorn!"</p>
<p>"No, George, you tell them about getting trapped in that one tomb in Abusir! Absolutely crawling with scarabs too."</p>
<p>George held his hands up in surrender. "I don't want to get in the middle of this. I was an innocent bystander on both occasions."</p>
<p>Angelina regarded George with some disbelief. "You conveniently forgot to mention either of those occasions to me, dear."</p>
<p>"Whatever possessed you to follow Bill and Charlie around last month, in any case?" Arthur wanted to know.</p>
<p>George bit into an asparagus, the picture of innocence. "Research."</p>
<p>"No doubt for some newfangled product for the joke shop."</p>
<p>"Hmm."</p>
<p>"You're being unusually tight-lipped," Hermione murmured as her eyes narrowed. She asked Charlie, "What did he want with you?"</p>
<p>Charlie said, "Something about figuring out how Longhorns contained heat in their bellies."</p>
<p>Hermione then turned to Bill, who said, "Something about figuring out how mummy wraps lasted so long."</p>
<p>"He's probably coming up with a new line of fireworks," Ron guessed. "Right, George?"</p>
<p>George didn't say.</p>
<p>The whole table was getting mighty suspicious now. You usually couldn't get George to shut up about his fancy inventions. Why was he so quiet?</p>
<p>"What did you do, George?" Molly demanded to know.</p>
<p>"Nothing."</p>
<p>"George Weasley, you tell me this instant!"</p>
<p>George looked at his mother pleadingly. She scowled at him and shook her fork at him. So he finally mumbled, "Exploding knickers."</p>
<p>"Exploding vat?" Fleur gasped in reproach. </p>
<p>"Really, George," Molly tsked. </p>
<p>"They'll be all the rage," George exclaimed. "You wear these beauties, simple and easy. When the time calls for it, <em> poof</em>! Your undies explode into white smoke just in time to impress." </p>
<p>George looked at his family with an expectant grin, waiting for some sort of a response. But, honestly, how were they supposed to respond to that? Even the children had their mouths open. </p>
<p>"Won't it look like you farted white smoke and blew your knickers right off your bum?" Harry couldn't help but wonder. </p>
<p>The children squealed. George pulled a face at them. "Well, it does need a few adjustments," he grumbled. "Not perfect yet. Probably need to rethink the sound effect." </p>
<p>"It would make a great gag gift," Harry said. "You should give one to Ron." </p>
<p>The Weasleys went quiet again. </p>
<p>Harry glanced around the table nervously. "Um…" </p>
<p>Ron, Percy, Bill, and Charlie were starting to turn bright red.</p>
<p>"Ah, well, you see." George readjusted the collar of his shirt. "I needed folks to test it out on." </p>
<p>"GEORGE!" the Weasley brothers shouted in unison. </p>
<p>"You're <em>all </em> wearing it?" Arthur exclaimed before becoming overcome with laughter. "Oh dear." </p>
<p>"Why would you wear anything George gifts you?" Molly sighed. The children were practically falling over their food from how hard they were giggling. </p>
<p>George proceeded to get pelted with half a dozen dinner rolls before Molly put an end to the food fight. "And here I thought he was giving out practical Christmas presents for once," Percy complained. </p>
<p>"What have we told you about using family as guinea pigs?" Arthur scolded George. </p>
<p>"Man, Harry ruins everything." George frowned at Harry.</p>
<p>"No way!" Harry blurted out. "You ruined it all by yourself. I didn't do anything. You shouldn't even have talked about it. You should have just waited for them to fart white smoke. It's all about execution. Fred's always been better at-" He bit his tongue hard to silence himself. Fred wasn't around in this life. "Ah, sorry," he added quickly, but that only made his faux pas more glaring. </p>
<p>An awkward silence followed as everyone tried to gloss over his comment and return to their meal. That was the worst thing he could have done. No one looked at him. </p>
<p>No one but George. </p>
<p>"Fred's always been better at what?" </p>
<p>Harry met George's slightly vulnerable gaze. </p>
<p>Harry was no stranger to death, but he had never been more than an acquaintance, at best. His parents had died when he was young. And then Severus Snape had taken him in. He never felt as though anything was missing in his life. He had a caring mentor, spectacular family, and incredible friends. Even during the war, he had never feared death. He knew nothing would happen to them, not if he could help it. But the other Harry was surrounded by death. He had to face the consequences of many heavy losses. Fred was George's best friend. They were attached at the hip. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose someone so close to him. "He's always been better at pulling pranks," Harry hesitated. "You're too kind." </p>
<p>George stared at Harry for a beat, and then smiled. It wasn't a particularly happy smile, but it was genuine. "I am, aren't I?" </p>
<p>Harry had to look away. His throat itched, his eyes burned and everything was so wrong. Why did things have to be wrong here? Why was there so much hurt and sadness here? All these scars. Because of Voldemort? It just wasn't fair. Why did Fred have to die? </p>
<p>Harry excused himself from the table. He needed some air if he was to pull himself together. He walked out the front door, into the night, pausing a few steps into the garden. He could tell that the wound was still fresh for the family. He should have watched his words. He was never one to think before he spoke. Severus had always chided him, and sometimes praised him, for that quality. Now would have been a good time to stay silent. </p>
<p>He glanced over his shoulder reflexively when he heard the front door open behind him. </p>
<p>George was standing at the doorway. "Aren't you cold?" </p>
<p>"No." </p>
<p>"You don't have to come down on yourself.” George stepped out as well. "You didn't say anything wrong." </p>
<p>"But you felt bad, didn't you?" Harry asked. </p>
<p>"Everyone feels bad when Fred's brought up." </p>
<p>That was only natural. No one felt good talking about murdered family members. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." </p>
<p>"I don't mind it when people talk about Fred," George divulged. "I like hearing it, even if it makes me feel bad. It's good that people remember him." </p>
<p>"Hard to forget him when his twin's hanging around." </p>
<p>George slowly looked over at Harry. "What did you say?" </p>
<p>Harry hung his head in defeat. He really couldn't keep up with himself, even when he dug his own grave. "Nothing," he mumbled. "You're hearing things." </p>
<p>"I must be. Hard to keep up with these conversations, having one ear and all," George snickered. "Sheesh. Damaged your filter or what?" </p>
<p>"Yeah. We'll say that." </p>
<p>"Are you done punishing yourself?" </p>
<p>"Not yet." </p>
<p>George dragged Harry back inside in any case and cast a quick warming spell on him so he would stop shivering like a maniac. Harry shoved his hands into his pockets to heat up his fingertips. "Hey, George?" </p>
<p>"Yeah?" </p>
<p>"I think Fred would be proud of you for pulling that off." </p>
<p>George beamed. "Now I've got to watch for slugs in my coffee and toads in my bed, so he had better appreciate it." </p>
<p>The dining room was filled with expectant silence when they walked back in. Harry sat down in his chair and picked up his knife and fork, keeping his embarrassed head down. He was used to making a scene, but this one really took the cake. </p>
<p>"He wanted to try on those knickers," George said without skipping a beat. </p>
<p>Arthur sputtered into his drink. </p>
<p>"Surprisingly comfortable," Harry added quietly. </p>
<p>Ron snorted and the table was reduced to tears. </p>
<p>After dinner, the family gathered in the living room for dessert, games, and more stories. Harry, Fleur, and Angelina had gotten roped into play with the children who had set up a colorful board in the middle of the room and assigned playing pieces to everyone. Ron and Hermione were helping Molly plate treacle tarts in the kitchen. Charlie and Bill were badgering George about the exploding underwear. The rest of the Weasleys were sitting on couches, drinking sweet coffee. </p>
<p>"Something's different about Harry, right?" Hermione asked Ron. </p>
<p>"Yeah," Ron agreed wholeheartedly. "What's up with him?" </p>
<p>"He didn't say anything to me." </p>
<p>"Good day at work?" </p>
<p>Meanwhile, Harry was trying hard to understand the rules of the game, but kept messing up so badly that he was threatened with expulsion. "I don't get it," he whined for the umpteenth time. </p>
<p>Teddy finally sighed. "Fine. We'll play together." He scooted over to sit on Harry's side of the board. "You're supposed to be smart.” </p>
<p>"I <em> am </em> smart," Harry muttered under his breath. "I'm smarter than you, at the very least<em>.</em>" Teddy kept quiet and snatched the cards off the floor. Harry was stumped by that reaction. The Teddy he knew would have dealt a good whack on his head for that snide comment. Harry leaned over and whispered, "You really think I'm smarter than you?" </p>
<p>Teddy pretended to be busy while sorting through the cards. </p>
<p>Harry wasn't used to being ignored by his godson. "Good," he instigated. "I <em> am </em> rather smart." </p>
<p>Teddy shrugged him off. "Okay, Vicky. You start this round." </p>
<p>Each round lasted about ten to fifteen minutes. Harry tried to keep up with all the card exchanges and speed drawings, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the game. On top of that, Teddy wouldn't explain what he was doing. When it was his turn to roll the dice, he would do just that and then move his piece without telling Harry. After two rounds, Harry decided that enough was enough. </p>
<p>He poked Teddy's side irritably. "What's going on? Tell me." </p>
<p>"See? You aren't smart at all." </p>
<p>"This is a stupid game.” </p>
<p>"Just watch," Teddy huffed. </p>
<p>"I've been watching for half an hour." </p>
<p>Their conversation was being held in hushed whispers, so their playmates couldn't make anything out except for their mirroring frowns. </p>
<p>"If you were watching hard enough, you would know how to play," Teddy snapped. </p>
<p>"Maybe I don't want to play this stupid game." </p>
<p>Teddy shoved Harry. "<em>Y</em><em>ou're </em> stupid!" </p>
<p>The chatter in the room disappeared. Teddy, realizing what he had just done, jerked his arms to his side when he felt everyone's eyes on him. </p>
<p>Harry was oblivious, however. "I'm not stupid. <em> You're </em> stupid, stupid," he retorted.</p>
<p>Teddy scrambled to stand up with his fists at his hips. "You take that back!" </p>
<p>"I'm not taking anything back! I don't want to play your <em>stupid </em> game." </p>
<p>"You bought me this game!" </p>
<p>"Because it's for <em>stupid </em> people!"</p>
<p>"IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE!"</p>
<p>"HAH! SO YOU ADMIT IT!"</p>
<p>"BOYS!" </p>
<p>Harry and Teddy snapped their teeth together and looked guiltily at Molly shaking her head in disbelief. Teddy sat himself down and tried to look as innocent as little Rose while Harry rearranged his scowl into a blameless expression. "What in heaven's name are you two doing?" Molly declared. </p>
<p>"He started it," Harry and Teddy said in unison, pointing fingers at each other. Then they gasped theatrically. "No, <em> you </em> started it!" They huffed and puffed for a couple seconds. </p>
<p>Teddy was quick to come up with a solution. He turned to the other children and prompted loudly, "Uncle Harry started it, right?" </p>
<p>"No <em> way</em>!" Harry grabbed the back of Teddy's sweater to turn him away from the children and tried to slap a hand over his mouth to shut him up. "Teddy started it! You guys saw him!" </p>
<p>Teddy stuck his tongue out, licking Harry's hand to get him to let go. "You were whining about the game!" </p>
<p>"Because you weren't helping me!" </p>
<p>"Because you're too dumb to understand!" </p>
<p>"I'm Harry Potter!" </p>
<p>Teddy's nostrils flared and his hair flickered bright white. "Being Harry Potter has nothing to do with it."</p>
<p>"It does if you're Harry Potter," Harry maintained. "I win everything by default." </p>
<p>Teddy grabbed the cushion he had been sitting on and smacked his godfather over the head with it. Harry snatched the cushion out of Teddy's hand without a word and proceeded to bop him in the face. </p>
<p>"PILLOW FIGHT!" Victoire screamed as she jumped up to grab a cushion before her mother could stop her. </p>
<p>Soon there were flying pillows and falling children everywhere, as well as shrieks of giggles once the pillow fight turned into a tickle fight. It wasn't long before Teddy had mobilized the ranks, causing the children to gang up on Harry. He ended up cowering on the ground with his arms over his head. They wouldn't stop until he was begging them to let him go between wheezing laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he panted and squirmed in an attempt to get away from their expert tickling fingers. "You win, I lose and all that. I'm sorry! Please stop!" </p>
<p>After a minute of hearing his godfather grovel, Teddy called off the dogs. He stood over Harry with a smug smirk plastered on his face. "You're the stupid one, right?" </p>
<p>"Yes, yes. I'm very, very, very stupid," Harry surrendered. </p>
<p>"And what else?" Teddy knelt on the rug and piqued a brow. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry I whined." </p>
<p>"And?" </p>
<p>"I'm sure you're only a <em> tiny </em> bit stupider than me." </p>
<p>Teddy sighed as a defeated grin split his face. There really was no winning. He bent down to knock his forehead against Harry's. "You're being too silly today, Uncle Harry," he whispered. </p>
<p>"Must be the exploding knickers," Harry whispered back. He was glad to see Teddy like this. This was how he always wanted to see Teddy - with a happy smile. "I'm sorry I missed Christmas." </p>
<p>"It's okay. You're here today, so it's okay." </p>
<p>Lucy crawled over to them, asking, "What're you two talkin' about?" </p>
<p>"We're bonding, Lucy," Harry said importantly. "No girls allowed." </p>
<p>Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. Something was definitely different about Harry. Since when did he know how to play with children? </p>
<p>After Molly had sufficiently scolded all of them into quieting down, they decided to play dumb charades, something everyone could play. Teddy stuck close to Harry all night long and, by proxy, so did the other kids. Rose was sleep on Harry's lap as ten struck. </p>
<p>"I've got her," Ron murmured. He gently plucked his daughter out of Harry's arms. "You should get going, right? Work tomorrow?" </p>
<p>"Yeah." Harry got up off the floor with some effort. Work. Now that was going to be interesting. He ruffled Teddy's hair. "I'll come by Andy's place tomorrow, alright?" </p>
<p>"Okay," Teddy beamed. </p>
<p>Harry didn't actually get out of the Burrow until around eleven, after lengthy goodbyes. Hermione talked him into lunch the following weekend. George thumped Harry's back a few times before hugging him. Molly and Arthur made him promise to visit on New Year's Day. Harry was tuckered out when he apparated onto the landing on 12 Grimmauld Place - his home.</p>
<p>Harry opened the door with a touch of his wand. Inside was silent, something he wasn't used to at the Black residence. Whenever he visited Sirius, there was always music to greet him. Every single light would be on. And he would hear his godfather tinkering with something in a corner of the house. But the home was different. He had gathered as much from the journals. Sirius had died over ten years ago. So had Remus and Tonks, in the Battle at Hogwarts. All the Marauders were gone. Now he was left with this inheritance.</p>
<p>He walked upstairs into the living room. He fashioned himself a small cot out of the couch and didn't bother changing before sliding under the covers. He was dead tired and he needed to wake up at six in the blasted morning because he had to be at work by seven. How did the other Harry do it? Damned if he knew. He left the lights on and hugged a pillow close, pretending it was Scout. Tomorrow was going to be a <em> long </em> day. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry stared up at 12 Grimmauld Place. The lights were on. Muffled sounds escaped the crack under the front door. He folded his arms at his stomach, steeling himself. What should he be expecting when he walked in? Before he could lose his nerve, he touched the tip of his wand to the door, unlocking it. </p>
<p>Loud music blared through the foyer. And everything looked so different. The corridor was lit up with bright, floating candles. An enormous Christmas tree adorned the foyer. Scent of a lavish dinner wafted through the home, and there was no cold draft. He was so used to the cold draft in this place. Instead it was warm, inviting, and magical.</p>
<p>"Harry?" </p>
<p>His heart skipped a beat. He recognized that voice. It brought back a flood of memories he had been suppressing. His throat was closing up from long overdue panic. </p>
<p>Sirius Black peered down from the second floor landing, wearing a maroon robe over his impeccable black vest and smart trousers, his dark curls tied at the nape of his neck, his hands in his pockets, and a bright grin on his face. "Didn't know you were dropping in," he said. "Fancy a Butterbeer?" </p>
<p>Harry pursed his lips as tears filled his eyes. His chest ached. He turned away so he could swipe at his cheeks. To see such a familiar and friendly face, one that he couldn't even dream of these days, it was too cruel. "Yeah," he croaked. This was everything he had imagined and more.  </p>
<p>A moment later he was wrapped up in a tight hug. He hid his tears against Sirius' shoulder. He was going out of his mind. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stifling heat was what Harry woke up to. He could hardly open his eyes, and when he did, he couldn't keep them open because of the bright light in the room. A strange touch ran along his cheek, making him wince. He raised a heavy hand, bumping it against a furry body. </p>
<p>"You got sick, Harry," Teddy whispered into his godfather's ear while Scout kept on licking his owner enthusiastically. "Are you okay now?" </p>
<p>With a sharp inhale Harry jolted upright, toppling both the child and dog off of his chest. Where was he? He looked around wildly. He had dreamt the most awful things. He jerked his hands out in front of him and frantically examined them. No scars. "No, no, no, no," he breathed in horror. He rubbed the back of his right hand fiercely, trying to bring the writing back. <em>I must not tell lies</em>. Instead, the skin was smooth. "Please wake up," he mumbled to himself. "Please, please, please-" </p>
<p>Gentle pressure on his shoulders pushed him back onto the pillows. </p>
<p>"It's only a bad dream," Remus Lupin reassured Harry kindly. "You're alright. Just getting over a fever." He glanced at Teddy while raising a derisive brow. "I told you to be careful with him." </p>
<p>Teddy pouted and twisted his fingers in front of his stomach. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I thought, I thought he would be <em> happy </em> if he saw me and Scout. I thought he would. Because, because he says he's always <em>happy</em> when he sees me and Scout. So, I thought, I thought he would be <em> happy</em>. I thought that. That's why we woke him up. " </p>
<p>Harry closed his eyes tight. He felt sick to the stomach. He hated dreaming about things like this. It hurt too much, too deep.</p>
<p>"What part of 'let him rest' is so difficult for all of you to understand?" </p>
<p>Harry jolted upright once again, this time in disbelief. </p>
<p>Severus Snape stood at the doorway, looking utterly Snape-like. </p>
<p>Harry gulped.</p>
<p>The Potions professor was glaring at Teddy and Scout. He was utterly displeased by their antics. Teddy slunk back sheepishly and Scout attempted to hide under the bed. Remus allowed himself a faint smile, not at all fazed by Severus' irritation. The man was always irritated. </p>
<p>Harry stared in amazement as Snape approached the bed. "Isn't it about time you grew out of your melodramatics?" the professor murmured low enough so his words stayed between them. He had a few vials in his hands. He held them out. "Blue for temperature, white for delirium, and red for rehydration. No tantrums. You've caused enough trouble already." </p>
<p>Harry reached out in a daze to take the potions. </p>
<p>"Well," Remus said cheerily, "he's rather obedient today, isn't he?" </p>
<p>Severus didn't even bother acknowledging that quip. He was silently ordering Harry to drink the medicine. Harry was quick to obey, flicking his eyes down and uncorking the vials with his trembling fingers so he could drink the bitter potions while fighting hard not to gag. Once he was done, he handed the empty vials back. </p>
<p>Severus took them and pocketed them, but his expression did change from annoyance to something else. "Hmm." He reached down to check Harry's temperature, but Harry shied away. Severus paused, then pulled his hand back just as easily. "You should lie down. Rest." Harry complied again. "Good." Severus examined him for a beat longer before sweeping away towards the doorway. "You two are coming with me," he added scathingly right before he walked out into the corridor. Teddy and Scout looked miserable as they dragged themselves after the professor, about to get a stern scolding if history was any indication of things to come. </p>
<p>Remus chuckled to himself and shook his head. "Troublemakers, huh?" He went and sat beside Harry again. "Feeling better now?" he asked. "Sirius is trying to fix up some soup for you. He's getting a bit too excited down there. He's never had to take care of a sick kid before." He winked good-naturedly. "He's really glad you came here instead of going to Severus. And," he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping, "I've got to say, Severus seems a bit peeved by your choice too." He laughed again. "Anyhow, I'll go see if Tonks and Sirius have managed to blow things up yet." He patted Harry's arm. "Food will be ready in a few minutes. Water's on the table." He strolled out of the room, closing the door gently behind him before making his way downstairs where commotion had been brewing since daybreak. </p>
<p>The living room was a wreck as Scout and Teddy decided to use various pillows to play tug-of-war. Severus had most likely ordered them to stay put in one room so they wouldn't be pestering everyone else. Remus knew it would be a lost cause to make the two of them stop and sit down. He let them be and went down into the kitchen where there was even more chaos. </p>
<p>"That's too much salt!" Tonk yelped. She grabbed Sirius' hand and yanked it away from the boiling pot of chicken broth. "Taste it first, Paddy!" Sirius responded with a low grunt. Severus was leaning against the counter, keeping a close eye on the ingredients being thrown into the large pot, just in case he had to step in and stop the two dolts from poisoning Harry. There were remnants of messily chopped celery and carrots on the cutting board, broth on the floor, and a smelly ginger concoction brewing off to the side. </p>
<p>"He's awake now," Remus thought to tell Sirius, who immediately stopped struggling with Tonks. "He will take his soup upstairs." </p>
<p>"Yes, yes," Sirius nodded wildly. "Once Tonks stops meddling." He threw a dirty look at the small woman who stuck her tongue out in retort. "I am perfectly good at making a bit of soup!" he exclaimed for the umpteenth time. "Go away!" </p>
<p>"Yes," Severus drawled. "You should probably tend to your vagrant child. He is tearing up the couch with that mutt." </p>
<p>"What?" Tonks gasped. She looked at Remus for confirmation and he shrugged apologetically. "For Merlin's sake," she cursed under her breath, stalking off to subdue Teddy and Scout. She elbowed her husband for good measure as she passed by. </p>
<p>"Oof," Remus groaned. He rubbed the side of his chest and walked over to give the soup a tentative whiff. "Doesn't smell so bad, does it?" he noted. </p>
<p>"Of course it doesn't!" Sirius was fed up. "This is incredibly insulting." He tapped his wand against the side of the pot to send it bubbling even more vigorously. "All of you come into <em>my</em> house and start badgering me over a bit of soup? Harry's not dying or anything. He just has a sore throat. Get off my back. It's like you don't have anything better to do." He glowered at Severus pointedly after saying as much. The man brushed it off without care. The two of them never did see eye to eye. In fact, the only reason they tolerated each other was because of Harry. </p>
<p>There was no winning with them. Remus just shrugged. "I'll take this up to him," he offered while conjuring up a bowl and spoon. </p>
<p>"I'll do it," Sirius butted in. He was quite obviously frustrated. He ladled the hot soup into the bowl and stuck the spoon in before glaring at the two other men in the kitchen and marching away. </p>
<p>Remus brushed splashed soup off of his hands and glanced at Severus out of the corner of his eye. "Couldn't you at least try to be civil today? For Harry's sake?" he asked. </p>
<p>Severus gritted his teeth. "Let him know I've shown myself out." He pushed off the counter and swept past without another word. Remus cringed when he heard the front door slam shut no more than ten seconds later. He had struck a wrong chord with Severus. As always. </p>
<p>Sirius knocked at the bedroom door twice before opening it. He found Harry lying down, staring up at the ceiling blankly. That image didn't settle with him. Harry was almost never contemplative. "Alright?" he asked in an attempt to snap his godson out of his reverie. </p>
<p>Harry started and struggled to sit up, appearing bewildered and contrite as he did so. Sirius approached him carefully and held the bowl of soup out without a word. Harry grabbed it in his shaky hands. It nearly sloshed over the edge, but he had it balanced on his lap before that happened. He then kept his eyes on the swirling broth, watching the chopped vegetables bob around. </p>
<p>Sirius suddenly found the silence stifling. Around Harry, there was never silence. Not usually. There was too much to talk about. Sirius pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed. "You had Snape all worried there," he remarked for the lack of anything better to say. "You had me a bit worried too." He gestured at the bowl. "Eat up. It's not that bad." </p>
<p>Harry nodded and started sipping on the soup bit by bit. </p>
<p>"It's just that you never come to me when you’re feeling poorly," Sirius continued on. "But it's alright to come over. Whenever you would like to. I won't mind at all. I know Snape is probably better at taking care of you, but I'm not too irresponsible, am I?"  </p>
<p>Harry finally smiled. "No." He shook his head. "You're great." </p>
<p>"Yeah. I am pretty great." </p>
<p>"The best, in fact." </p>
<p>"That's pushing it," Sirius joked. He was glad to see Harry becoming his normal self again. "Anyway, I let your coworkers know that you were sick. Chase said it was most probably because you did more work in one day than you have in a month." He smirked. "You were trying to get that suspension lifted, weren't you? Trying to get on your boss' good books, eh?" </p>
<p>"No, I..." Harry cleared his throat and quickly shoveled more soup into his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk. Sirius was alluding to all the paperwork that he had filed in a matter of six hours yesterday. Chase had been befuddled when he checked up on him and saw that a pile of reports had been completed studiously. Only when Harry heard a stunned exclamation had he realized that the other Harry did not have the same work ethic as him. By then it was too late to rectify things. Chase had been mighty suspicious. </p>
<p>Now he could only imagine what everyone at work was thinking. </p>
<p>He paused. </p>
<p>Why would he care what everyone was thinking? This wasn't even his life. </p>
<p>This wasn't his life.</p>
<p>He looked up at Sirius. There was so much he wanted to say to his godfather. That he wished things had ended differently for him. That he wished they had had a chance to stay in this home together. That there were many, many questions about James and Lily that he had never had a chance to ask. Harry pushed down the urge to blurt out all those words. Instead, he said, "I'm glad you're here." </p>
<p>Sirius raised his brows in surprise. "Of course I'll be here for you. Where else would I be?" </p>
<p>Harry couldn't say. He felt that ache in his chest again. He had to force himself to breathe normally despite his constricting throat. "I think I scared Teddy." </p>
<p>"Oh, don't worry about that brat. He doesn't like seeing his big brother get sick, that's all." </p>
<p>Big brother. Harry hadn't seen his Teddy in about two weeks. Not even for Christmas. Guilt was welling up in him again. This Teddy was different for his Teddy. This Teddy was younger. He didn't know of loss. His parents were alive. He led a full life. But his Teddy was hurting. He couldn't bear to see Teddy that way. He couldn't bear to make Teddy any more miserable.  Did his Teddy think of him as a big brother too? Or was he just another person indebted to his parents? </p>
<p>"You should rest here today," Sirius insisted. "Scout's welcome, of course. I think you have had a little too much excitement over the holidays. Don't you?" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm so tired," Harry moaned as he collapsed on the sofa beside Teddy. "You have to be nice to me today." </p><p>Teddy smiled at his godfather. "I'm always nice to you, Uncle Harry."</p><p>Harry clicked his tongue. "Why do you call me 'Uncle Harry'?" he wanted to know. </p><p>Teddy was surprised. "Eh?" </p><p>"Why do you call me '<em>Uncle</em>' Harry?" </p><p>"That's your name, isn't it?" </p><p>"Why not just 'Harry'?" </p><p>"Because that would be weird."</p><p>"I call you Teddy, don't I?" Harry argued. </p><p>"That's not the same," Teddy maintained. "You're older than me, so I have to call you 'Uncle Harry."</p><p>"I don't like it." </p><p>"You never said anything before." </p><p>"Well, I'm saying it now, aren't I?" </p><p>"I can't just change what I call you." </p><p>"You should try. Just call me 'Harry' from now on." </p><p>"I <em> can't</em>." </p><p>"How old are you?" </p><p>Teddy scowled. "Nine." </p><p>"And I'm twenty-six.” </p><p>"So?" </p><p>"We're only seventeen years apart." </p><p>"So?" </p><p>Harry sputtered. "So, I'm <em> hardly </em>qualified to be an uncle. That's what's so. I'm too youthful." </p><p>"Yeah, right," Teddy scoffed. </p><p>Harry snatched the book that Teddy was reading right out of his hands. "What's this?" He turned it over so he could look at the cover. "Ah, a mystery. I love mysteries too. Is it any good?" </p><p>"Uncle Harry?" </p><p>"What?" </p><p>Teddy looked at him plainly. "Are you sick?" </p><p>"Now, why would you ask that?" Harry cocked his head to the side. </p><p>"Why are you talking so much?" </p><p>"You want me to shut up? That's not a very nice thing to say," Harry frowned. </p><p>"I didn't say it," Teddy shrugged as he grabbed the book back and held onto it tighter. "You did." He tried to go back to reading. </p><p>But Harry was relentless. He hooked a finger under his godson's chin and made him look up. "What's so wrong with talking?" </p><p>Teddy tsked. "There's nothing wrong with talking. You just never do it, that's all." </p><p>"Maybe you never listen," Harry countered. "Ever thought of that?" </p><p>"I do listen!" Teddy blustered. "I listen to everybody. You're the one who never listens. If I don't ever listen, then how would I know that you made Ginny cry when you-" He trailed off when he saw the expression on Harry's face. He had blurted out something terrible. He had said something that no one wanted to hear. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered rapidly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" </p><p>"Made Ginny cry?" Harry echoed. He would never make Ginny cry. But maybe the other Harry would. Why would he do that? </p><p>Teddy felt awful. He wanted to take back everything he had said. Just looking at Harry's distant expression made him sick. "I'm sorry," he apologized. His voice was shaking. "I didn't mean to say that. I didn't." </p><p>Harry blinked out of his thoughts when Teddy's words registered and he realized that the boy was getting upset. He forced his troubled expression away with some difficulty and rolled his eyes instead. "Oh, so you'll call her 'Ginny', but you won't call me 'Harry'? You know I'm only a year older than her, don't you?"</p><p>Teddy groaned in dismay and hid his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I know you said I had to be nice to you today and I didn't mean to make you feel bad." Everything started spilling out of him, especially when Harry pulled him closer into a hug. "You're always trying so hard to be happy and I'm always making you sad. I didn't mean to say that. I didn't. I'll call you 'Harry', okay?" </p><p>"Okay, okay," Harry murmured. He was shocked by the sudden meltdown. Teddy was never supposed to cry. "It's okay. I'm not sad. You can't make me sad, Teddy. I love you very much." </p><p>That only managed to set Teddy off even more. </p><p>Andromeda came rushing in when she heard her grandson wailing. She found him nestled in Harry's arms, crying his little heart out while Harry tried unsuccessfully to calm him down. "Oh dear!" She rushed over to them. "Teddy? Sweetheart? What's wrong?" She reached for him. "Come here." </p><p>"No," Teddy refused vehemently. He held onto Harry as tight as he could. "No."</p><p>"He's okay," Harry assured Andromeda. "He will be okay." He hoped he was telling the truth. He was struggling to hold back his own tears at that point. He hated seeing others in pain. "Now I've made <em> two </em> people cry," he whispered into Teddy's ear.</p><p>"YOU'RE SO MEAN!" Teddy howled. </p><hr/><p>Teddy giggled while swinging his legs while seated on a wooden chair that was much too big for him. "You're being so quiet, Harry," he teased. "That's funny." He then lifted a finger and pressed it against his lips. "Shh. I'll be quiet too. But it's going to be really hard. " </p><p>Harry shook his head in amazement while smiling at the young boy sitting by his bedside. Another, younger, happier Teddy. "You don't have to be quiet," he told Teddy. "I don't like it when you're quiet." They were still in 12 Grimmauld Place, in the spare bedroom, enjoying a day off as soft snow fell outside.</p><p>"Really?" Teddy brightened up even more. "Great! I'm very bad at keeping quiet. Mummy says that all the time." When he talked, his hands moved almost as much as his lips. His arms were thrown about wildly, often coming very close to striking nearby objects, including the tumbler on the bedside table and the back of the chair he was perched on. Harry wasn't used to Teddy being that way. "And you know what else? Daddy says I can sleep over today! Hurray!" He raised his fists in the air and shook them triumphantly. "Don't tell Mummy!" he added with just as much enthusiasm. He started leaning forward while keeping his feet on the footrest until he was tipping dangerously onto the edge of the bed. Harry quickly caught him before he could topple onto the floor. In a matter of seconds, Teddy had sequestered a spot beside Harry by the pillow. "I'll read you a book, Harry," he said. "I'm getting better now. I like reading. Just like you, right?" </p><p>"Hmm." </p><p>"And I made sure Scout went potty outside. He's just a baby. I <em> love </em> Scout! I'm glad I get to play with him. Don't you love Scout?" </p><p>"Mhm." </p><p>"You're feeling better, aren't you?" </p><p>"Much." </p><p>"It's because you're drinking your potions. Good boy." Teddy patted Harry's head. "You have to be a good boy to get better. Mummy says-" </p><p>"Teddy?" </p><p>"Hmm?" </p><p>Harry cupped Teddy's chubby cheek in his hand. "You're incredible. Do you know that?"</p><p>Teddy grinned and blushed. "Aw. I know. You're silly," he gushed. </p><p>"You're making me feel much better today. It's not the potions." </p><p>Teddy tried to burrow into the messy bedspread, that's how embarrassed he was. He curled up close to Harry and refused to show his face. "Silly Harry." His voice was muffled under the sheets. "I make you feel better every day." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"S-sir?" </p><p>Harry inhaled sharply and sat up, garbling, "I'm awake." He rubbed his sleepy eyes and peered at the doorway. "Oh, it's you," he sighed when he recognized Lionel and sagged into his seat. Then he jerked upright again. "Ah! What time is it? I fell asleep!" </p><p>Lionel was still coming to grips with his boss now suffering from multiple personality disorder. Before Christmas, Harry Potter would never be caught sleeping in his office. After Christmas, Lionel found Harry Potter asleep more often than not. "Uh, um, it's alright, sir," he said to appease Harry, who was fumbling around on his desk to push together all the papers he needed for his morning meeting. "You still have a half-hour." </p><p>"Oh, thank goodness." Harry sagged into the chair once again. His spectacles were giving him a massive headache. "I need a walk." He got up gingerly and stretched his cramped back. "That's got to be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I've ever sat in," he added. "Is your chair comfortable, Lionel?" </p><p>"Yes?" </p><p>"Hmm." He never knew with his assistant. The man said things that he thought everyone wanted to hear. Harry decided to see for himself. He began walking towards reception. </p><p>Lionel was too stunned to do anything for a moment. But when he realized what the Head Auror was doing, he jumped and rushed behind him. "Sir?"</p><p>Harry went out into the waiting area where a row of seats sat against one wall and Lionel's desk stood by another. He took a moment to scrutinize the plain chair behind the meticulous table. It didn't seem to have much cushioning. He wound around the desk and took a seat, leaning back experimentally to test its springiness. </p><p>Lionel was wringing his hands in dismay, becoming more and more certain that his boss had gone mad. </p><p>"It's not comfortable at all," Harry frowned. "It even creaks. See?" He rocked back and forth to illustrate his point. Sure enough, a rough groan emitted from the legs as it protested the movement. "We should get new chairs. I'm the Head Auror. The least they could do is give us better chairs." </p><p>"I-I'm fine with this one," Lionel insisted. "You don't have to bother, Mr. Potter." </p><p>"Nonsense." Harry tried spinning around. "It doesn't even spin properly," he remarked. "If you need something, you shouldn't hesitate to ask, Lionel. It's how you get things done. And what's the harm in asking? The worst they can do is say 'no' to us." He stopped spinning. "Besides, they'll agree for sure." He smiled brilliantly. "Right?" </p><p>Lionel was flabbergasted and didn't know what to say. </p><p>"Anyway," Harry continued on as he got up. "I'll be back in a bit. Hold the fort." He strolled out of the office, thinking about who he needed to speak with about the new furniture. If he were just a little bit better at Transfigurations, he would have transfigured his existing chair into something much comfier, but he wasn't any good at it, so he didn't even bother trying. It would be a lot simpler to just ask someone instead. </p><p>By ten o'clock, Harry was pulling his hair out while trying to make sense of the dozens of exasperatingly confusing documents he had to sign off on. There were budget reports, status of criminals, court orders, warrants, and meeting minutes. The other Harry seemed to have a very strange system of leaving things on his messy desk in an awfully random order so that no one could make sense of the way he worked. Now this Harry was trying furiously to get through all the crap. </p><p>He was on his third cup of coffee as he hurried out of the meeting with the lawyers downstairs with an armful of parchment rolls that he had to read through before writing up charges on the perps his team had caught over the past week – his team that he hadn't even met yet. He growled to himself. How did Robards do it? Did he have ten arms or what? He could hardly concentrate on his tasks as is, let alone have to manage books, reprimands, public requests, and Wizengamot demands. There weren't enough hours in the day to be a Head Auror. </p><p>He rounded the corner and ran headlong into Chase, nearly upending the coffee all over both of them. His heart jumped to his throat in fright. "Watch it!" he exclaimed before he could catch himself. </p><p>Chase responded with a strange smile. "Sorry, sir. Good morning. Need help carrying these?" he asked, gesturing at the paperwork nestled in the crook of Harry’s elbow. </p><p>Right, this wasn't the same Chase. "Sure. Thanks," Harry said as he dumped the rolls of parchment into Chase’s awaiting arms. Sir. That sounded strange. Very awkward. "Erm, how was Christmas?" he asked lamely. </p><p>"Fine. And yours, sir?" </p><p><em> His </em> Christmas was great, but 'his' Christmas was vastly different. "I was here." </p><p>"Of course." </p><p>Harry didn't like the way Chase had said that. "Could you give those to Lionel?” </p><p>“Yes, sir.” </p><p>“Keep up the good work," he said before scurrying away. </p><p>Chase stared after the Head Auror in amazement, not quite comprehending what had just happened. He glanced over at the Auror desks where some of his team had been eavesdropping and peeking out from behind the partially open door. He shrugged at them in an unsure manner. The Head Auror was making small talk with his underlings? Christmas miracle. </p><p>Harry was passing by the third floor when he heard commotion through the walls. Sounded like someone had gotten themselves into a heap of trouble. In fact, it sounded a lot like how Robards yelled at his team. Well, Harry in particular. The shouts were music to his ears. Over the past two days, he had come across no shouting at all. He was starting to think that everyone in this Ministry was perfect. He smiled slyly and decided to investigate. </p><p>He stepped onto the third-floor landing and walked through the double doors. </p><p>"-AN IMBECILE TELLING ME HOW TO DO MY JOB! DO YOU <em> HONESTLY </em> THINK YOU KNOW BETTER THAN ME?" </p><p>The hallway was a bit crowded but people walked past the shouting while keeping their heads down so they wouldn't be tempted to stare. Harry didn't really care about being caught staring. Staring was nothing to be ashamed of. And this was just too incredible to miss. </p><p>Draco Malfoy was being shouted at! </p><p>That <em> never </em> happened unless Severus was around. No one dared raise their voice at a Malfoy. </p><p>Harry watched from behind a pillar, his brows arched and a surprised grin splitting his face. Draco looked like he was about to burst. Harry had seen that look often enough, especially when the Slytherins lost Quidditch matches. A Malfoy tantrum was brewing. </p><p>The man who was yelling was a short, stout, and balding office worker with a chubby red neck and flushed cheeks. His arms were waving about and he was shaking his hands with each forceful word being spat out of his mouth. "TWENTY YEARS!" the man screamed. "I'VE WORKED TWENTY YEARS IN THIS OFFICE, YOU IGNORAMUS! I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH YOUR INSOLENCE!" His voice was getting so shrill, Harry was afraid he would end up keeling over and dying from a stroke. "I AM WRITING YOU UP FOR THIS MESS! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, YOU HEAR ME? GET OUT!" </p><p>Draco didn't have to be told twice. He spun around on his heel and stormed away furiously, shoving past anyone who stood in his path. </p><p>Harry shook his head in disbelief. Since when did Draco hold his tongue? Strange. </p><p>It was so strange, as it happens, that Harry decided to stealthily follow Draco through the winding halls. The least he could do after watching the showdown was make fun of Draco. It was the <em> least </em> he could do. Besides, he had another ten minutes to kill. He took care to keep his distance, which was unnecessary since Draco didn't seem to even glance at his surroundings because of how angry he was. The crowd thinned as they moved further inside the maze of cubicles and workers. Draco turned off into a row of record storage rooms. He seemed to choose a door at random, throw it open and then slam it shut behind him. Harry had never been in this place before. Record-keeping was such a dull job. He wondered what Draco was doing there.  He couldn't possible work in this department, could he? That would be a hoot.</p><p>Taking a moment to prepare himself for some marvelous gloating, Harry breathed in deep before reaching for the doorknob and twisting it open. </p><p>He realized that he had made a terrible mistake the moment he clapped eyes on Draco's hunched back and heard muffled sobs. </p><p>He tried to shuffle out of the cluttered filing room but the back of his foot struck a box of parchments that had been precariously balanced. It tumbled to the ground, jolting Draco into awareness. </p><p>He whipped around, his expression contorting the moment he recognized Harry. "What are you doing?" </p><p>"Um, there's nothing to cry about-"</p><p>Boy, was that the wrong thing to say. </p><p>Draco drew his wand out so fast that it was a blur. Harry barely had a chance to brace himself before the blow struck. </p><p>His chest and stomach and face were in agony, as though he had just rammed into a solid barrier. He was thrown off his feet and slammed against the door with enough force to bust through it. He ended up knocking into the opposite wall of the corridor before falling to the ground in an almost senseless heap. Nothing had ever hurt this bad. He blinked back the stars and couldn't hear anything but a sharp ringing in his head. There was dust, wood, plaster, and papers all around him. A whole world of pain. </p><p>Draco was frozen.</p><p>He had expected Potter to curse him.</p><p>Hurt him.</p><p>Stop him. </p><p>But Harry hadn't even drawn his wand. </p><p>With a quiet whimper, Draco fell to his knees. He could hear screams and shouts but nothing sounded louder than his own terrified thoughts. He had just attacked the Head Auror. He ducked his head and clapped his hands to his ears. He could hear them screaming for the medic. He could hear them screaming for the Dementors. He could hear them screaming at him. He had just attacked Harry Potter. </p><p>It didn't matter if he fought. It didn't matter if he cried or begged or prayed.</p><p>He was jerked upward by the collar.</p><p>"WHAT THE <em>FUCK</em>, MALFOY?"</p><p>A fist slammed into his jaw. Pain bloomed across his face as he fainted into welcome warmth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And now the fun begins! </p><p>Thanks everyone for your support thus far, I really appreciate it. I am having way too much fun writing this story. I have almost completed all the chapters (there should be about 20-ish). I'll keep updating in a flurry. I'm also thinking of using this story as a start to a Collection revolving around this sort of universe jumping with different characters, one-shots, etc. Let me know if you have ideas for characters you would like to see meet up in this Twisted fashion.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chase sidled towards Harry's desk with a nervous step. "Feeling better today?"</p><p>Harry looked up with a blank stare for a moment before suddenly snapping to his senses. He smiled with ease and nodded. "Yes, thank you. I think I just needed a day off." </p><p>Chase let out a sigh of relief when he saw the bright expression on his partner's face. "Man, you scared me," he exclaimed as he dragged a chair near and plopped down. "When Sirius called up yesterday, I was sure you had had a mental episode. I mean, you practically worked yourself to the bone the day before. Oh, and don't think Robards hasn't noticed." He winked. "You dug yourself into this hole, Harry. I don't think I'll be able to help you out if you keep this up." </p><p>"I suppose I could try and slack off," Harry offered. "Don't want you to look bad." </p><p>"Shut up. And nice glasses." </p><p>The Auror department in this world was so different. Harry was stunned by the lack of stringent rules as well as the significantly reduced staff size. Threats were almost non-existent here. In this world, the Dark Lord had been defeated with such ease that there was no lingering Dark Army to deal with. It was a surreal life. He rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his palm while absentmindedly filling out some charge sheets. Everyone was alive, no one had nightmares, and nothing went wrong. How was that possible? He had never even dreamt of such a place before. What could have caused this drastic change in history in this world? Ever since he could remember, he had been surrounded by trouble. The other Harry was surrounded by joy. </p><p>No, that wasn't right. Back in his world, Harry was surrounded by joy as well. A different sort of joy. A joy that went hand in hand with sorrow. They were free from the Dark Lord's grasp. A brighter future awaited them. Many people cared about him. Some cared enough to die for him. That was a terrifying thought. It was a thought he carried with him all the time. </p><p>A puzzle he had yet to piece in was the mysterious appearance of Severus Snape. From what he could gather, Snape had taken him in many years ago. How did Snape become his guardian? Because of his mother? Had Snape felt responsible and decide to take him in instead of letting him live with the Dursleys?</p><p>A short whistle interrupted his train of thought. </p><p>He glanced up to see Draco Malfoy out in the corridor. </p><p>Harry looked behind him. No one there. He turned his head to the right and left, searching. No one seemed to be paying any attention to the visitor. He finally looked at Malfoy once again and pointed at himself with a questioning frown. </p><p>Draco scowled back.</p><p>Harry was perplexed. Why would Malfoy want to see him? He set his quill down and looked around once more. Apparently nothing was amiss in the eyes of the rest of the Aurors. That was strange. Did Malfoy visit often? He stood up and, after a bit of hesitation, weaved his way between the desks to get to the exit. </p><p>Draco was getting impatient by the second. "What's your problem?" he hissed irritably. "Come here." He grabbed Harry by the elbow and jerked him down the narrow hallway, a little ways away from the bullpen. Then he stopped with his arms crossed at his chest. "Uncle Sev expects me to babysit you. What's that all about?" he demanded to know. Harry was still coming to terms with the liberties Malfoy took with him. Things were very different here. Draco stooped down to peer at Harry. "Have you finally gone mental, Potter?" </p><p>Harry, startled by the closeness, pulled back. "I'm fine," he muttered scathingly. "I don't need to be babysat." </p><p>"You know he won't worry unless he has a reason." </p><p>Harry realized that Draco was talking about Snape. "Then tell him I'm fine," he said. </p><p>"Why won't <em>you </em> tell him?" Draco retorted. </p><p>Because Harry wasn't planning on meeting Snape, that's why. He didn't say it. He pursed his lips into a thin line instead and continued glaring at Malfoy. </p><p>Draco clicked his tongue in exasperation. "When he asks me how you're doing, I'll tell him you're fine?" </p><p>"Do that. Your concern is entirely unwarranted." Harry decided to take the initiative and end the conversation there. He stomped back to his desk without a backward glance. He would be damned if he let Malfoy boss him around. He plopped down at his seat and picked up a quill, wringing it between his fists. Instead of dealing with Malfoy and work, he would rather go back to Sirius' and spend time with him. </p><p>"Got into another fight with Malfoy, did ya?" </p><p>He looked over at the neighboring desk. Chrissy, the newest addition to the Auror team, was wiggling her eyebrows at him while smacking on her bubblegum. She had a cheeky grin on. "What?" he asked weakly. </p><p>"Nah, it’s just that when ya fight with him, ya get grumpy. He gets on ya nerves a lot." </p><p>"... I guess?" </p><p>"Never mind that." She waved it off without a second thought. "Can I borrow ya Firebolt? Not much use sittin' around in a cabinet lookin' pretty, am I right?" </p><p>Chase lobbed a balled-up piece of paper expertly at her head from all the way across the room. "Give him a break, kid," he drawled. </p><p>"Just askin'," she exclaimed. She grabbed the projectile off the floor and threw it back at Chase, missing him by a mile. "No harm in askin'. Not a crime or nothin'." </p><p>"Stop asking if you already know the answer," Chase said with a pointed look.</p><p>Chrissy pouted at Harry and he smiled awkwardly while shrugging. He had no clue what was going on. </p><hr/><p>Draco woke up fully expecting to find himself in a dank jail cell. Instead he was in a hospital ward, partitioned off from the beds on either side of him by white curtains. He also woke up to Harry Potter scowling at him by the foot of the bed. The Head Auror had a bandage wrapped around his head, his left arm in a sling, and a tensor around his right hand. Draco couldn't be sure what had happened, but he knew he had something to do with it. He was resigned to that fact. What perplexed him was why he wasn't being arrested. </p><p>He closed his eyes and turned onto his side. </p><p>"Don't ignore me." </p><p>He must be dreaming. He heard Harry stomp over to the side of the bed stubbornly. Strange things like that only happened in his dreams. For the past ten years, he had been all but invisible. No one cared about what he did as long as he was on time for mandatory probationary work and didn't mess up. So why had Harry Potter, of all people, stumbled into his private meltdown session in the closet? At the moment, Harry Potter was paying him more attention than anyone else had since the war ended. Assaulting him didn't make him go away. He just wanted Potter to leave him alone. He wanted everyone to leave him alone. </p><p>Draco bolted upright in an instant and swung his fist. Harry sidestepped the clumsy punch. Draco took another swing at Harry, missing entirely because of the tears blinding him. </p><p>"Get a grip, Malfoy." </p><p>Draco struggled to keep his composure. He didn't know what to do anymore. He just wanted it to be over. </p><p>"What?" </p><p>He looked up at Harry. </p><p>Harry pursed his lips upon seeing Draco's bloodshot eyes. "You said you just want it to be over."</p><p>Draco hadn't realized that he had said it out loud. </p><p>"You figured, if you hexed me, it would be over?" Harry said in disbelief. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever-" </p><p>"I thought you would kill me." </p><p>Harry trailed off into nonsense. He couldn't have possibly heard right. </p><p>"I thought you would try to kill me like that time-" </p><p>"Are you serious?" Harry hissed. "Kill you? Are you <em> fucking </em> serious?" </p><p>"I DON'T CARE!" Draco shouted at him. "I don't care what happens to me. I don’t care." </p><p>Harry grabbed something out of his pocket and flung it at Draco's head, snarling, "I don't care either, you bloody lunatic.” </p><p>Draco flinched back before it could hit him and caught it in bewilderment as Harry stormed out of the room. He looked down at the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans box in his hand. He opened it. Inside was a handful of jellybeans. Marmalade and peach.</p><p>His favourite flavours.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry walked into the Head Auror's office, feeling intense déjà vu the moment he clapped eyes on Gawain Robards. He hadn't worked under the man in years. Robards was seated on the sofa with a stack of papers on one side of him and a folder open on his lap that he was scanning. "Sit down, Potter," he said without looking up. Harry complied, walking over to the Head Auror and taking a seat opposite him on the chair, a low coffee table separating them. "I trust the holidays were pleasant for you," Robards murmured. </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>"Oh? No elaborate stories this time?" Robards flicked his eyes up to frown at Harry.</p><p>"No. No stories," Harry faltered. Why would he be telling Robards stories? </p><p>The Head Auror gestured at the stack of parchments to his right. "Do you know what I have here?" Harry tried to read it from where he sat, but he couldn't make out the words, so he shook his head. "Some of the cases you've closed," Robards said. He picked up the first sheaf, leafing through it. "Hardly elegant, but you do get the job done." </p><p>"Thank you, sir." </p><p>"That isn't a compliment, Harry," Robards said dryly. "You have been working here for almost ten years. Don't you think it is high time you realized that finesse is a big part of our job? Anyone can make a mess and put the bad guys away. But we, as a department, have to maintain a modicum of decorum while doing so. It's always been a struggle with you. I know you are aware of this." </p><p>Harry didn't know how to respond to that. </p><p>"I'm retiring soon." </p><p>"Ah." </p><p>"And I have been considering giving you my job." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>"But you make it difficult," Robards sighed. He sat back and massaged his forehead. "You see, every time I think of leaving, I get nightmares about what you would do to this department. It would be chaos. Just utter chaos." </p><p>If that was so, then maybe he wasn't the right candidate for the job, Harry thought. "You could choose someone else, sir," he offered as a solution. "I mean, if you don't trust me to... I'm... Um." He stopped because Robards was looking at him strangely now. </p><p>"You would be alright with that?" Gawain asked in disbelief. "If I chose someone else?" </p><p>"I can come to terms with it, yes," Harry clarified. "I trust your judgment." </p><p>"I didn't expect this from you." </p><p>"What were you expecting, sir?" </p><p>"A loud outburst, to be frank," Robards muttered. "This is certainly unexpected." </p><hr/><p>Harry sat sullenly in yet another uncomfortable chair. He was opposite the Minister of Magic, who was behind a large, important looking desk. And boy, was he in trouble. He didn't like being in trouble. Usually when he got into trouble, he would have to answer to Robards. Unfortunately, now that he was in Robards' position, he had only one person to answer to – the Minister. </p><p>Kingsley Shacklebolt had his elbows on the table and his fingers tented together under his chin as he examined Harry's less than optimal appearance, all tied up in gauze and bandages. He let out a quiet sigh of disappointment and shook his head. "What am I supposed to do?"</p><p>Harry didn't know. He was getting really pissed off the longer he spent in the Minister's office. He kept his eyes on his lap and his brows knitted together. </p><p>Kingsley wasn't surprised to hear a lack of argument from Harry. "It was clearly assault," he continued. "You really do need to press charges." </p><p>Harry couldn't do that. Not to Draco. "What does Malfoy's contract entail?" he asked instead. </p><p>Kingsley had the paper right in front of him. He glanced down and said, "He is on probation and, until he has paid off his debt, he will continue to work for the Ministry under supervision of a probation officer." He looked up to find a sour expression on Harry's face. That was surprising. "It's better than Azkaban, Harry.” </p><p>"I know," Harry all but snapped. "But it's been almost a decade. How much longer do you-" </p><p>"You aren't thinking of asking me to let him go, are you?" Kingsley interjected. </p><p>"Yes, I am." </p><p>The Minister, exasperated, muttered, "That's just cruel."</p><p>Now Harry was astonishment. "Cruel?" he exclaimed. "<em>I'</em><em>m </em> being cruel? He had a nervous breakdown, sir! Pardon my language but, if you don't let him go, he's only going to get more fucked up." </p><p>Kingsley hid his shock well. "What will he do if he is terminated?" he asked. "Who do you think would hire an ex-Death Eater?" He saw Harry flinch, which was another unexpected reaction. "I'm being blunt, I know," he conceded. "But the wages he earns here is what feeds and clothes him. Rehabilitating ex-convicts is one of our duties as a Ministry. He would be ostracized if he were let go. Imagine being fired from the system that tried to help him. Tell me that's not cruel." </p><p>Harry couldn't say it. He hadn't realized all this. This world was so different. Everyone was scared, even after the war had ended. So where did that leave Draco? "Where does Malfoy work now?" he asked after clearing his throat. </p><p>"Public Information Services. He keeps the records, updates files, the like." </p><p>Such a dry job. No wonder he was going out of his mind. The Draco Harry knew needed to grow, learn new things, accomplish tasks, and most importantly, get raises. If there were anything that would keep Draco motivated, it would be money and status. "Could I... I mean, isn't there anything that can be done?" </p><p>Kingsley was having a very hard time trying to figure out his Head Auror at this moment. And he thought he knew Harry Potter fairly well by now. "What are you doing?" he prodded kindly. "How many chances are you going to give him?" </p><p>"But what if I promise that he won't do something like that again? I can make sure of it," Harry assured Kingsley. "There will be no more trouble." </p><p>"Don't you have enough projects underway?" </p><p>"I have time for one more." </p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“HARRY’S HERE.” </p><p>“Hey, Harry.” </p><p>“Oh good, Harry’s here. We’re short one for Skittles. Eat my shorts, Fred.” </p><p>“Oh, hi, Harry.” </p><p>“Oops, watch it, Harry.” </p><p>“Where’s Scout, Harry?” </p><p>“Harry! You forgot the pie, didn’t you? I knew you would. I told you he’d forget, Aunt Molly.” </p><p>“You alright, Harry?” </p><p>Harry blinked at Ron and Hermione, who were perched on a stair together, arm in arm. </p><p>They were surrounded by Weasley chaos at the Burrow. Children ran between them, chasing a few glowing bouncy balls. The dining table was laden with delicious food. Fred and George were wrestling by the fireplace with Bill, Charlie, and Audrey egging them on. Percy and Fleur were painstakingly decorating cookies while Luis and Lucy jostled them, asking for a bite. Molly was bustling in the kitchen with Angelina’s help. Arthur was helping Rose with her broken doll and trying to stop his granddaughter’s tears by telling her to trust him, he knew how to fix everything. </p><p>It was perfect. </p><p>He had missed this. </p><p>He smiled at his best friends. “Yeah.” He joined them on the steps. “I’m alright.”  </p><p>After dinner at the Burrow, Harry apparated to his ‘home’. He ventured into the small flat nervously. Pitter-patter of hurried paws on the floor welcomed him. Scout raced down the foyer, tail wagging and ears flopping wildly. Harry couldn't help but smile as he bent down and let the dog nuzzle him. He didn't have pets, not since Hedwig. He pushed the sad memories away stubbornly. "Want some food?" he asked Scout.</p><p>There were photographs everywhere. That was the first thing he noticed in the flat. There were sentimental clutter and pictures adorning the walls and shelves. A holiday tree stood in the living room. The dining table was messy with newspapers and Christmas cards. The bedroom was small with an unmade bed, an overflowing closet, and another bookshelf full of books. The bathroom was a disgrace. This was definitely a place for Harry Potter. He felt right at home in all this mess. </p><p>There was a photograph in the alit corridor leading into those rooms. It caught his eye for a reason that wasn't apparent until he looked closer. </p><p>He looked to be around eleven or twelve in the picture. He was in his Hogwarts uniform. Gryffindor. His hair was a miserable disaster, his glasses were crooked, and he was beaming happily with an arm thrown over Draco Malfoy. </p><p>Malfoy was looking off to the side, evidently telling someone off by the way his brows were pulled together. He didn't seem to realize that his picture was being taken, not until Harry had poked him in the stomach. Then he jumped, his scowl growing fiercer for just a second before he noticed the camera that was pointed at them. His expression smoothed over in the blink of an eye. He looped an arm around Harry's shoulder and waved while smiling. </p><p>Over the course of the night, Harry had raided the flat for more photos. He lay in bed, holding in his hands everything he had managed to dig out of a box of old junk in the closet. He scanned each of them carefully. Most of them had him in it – in the Great Hall, at Auror training camp, in his apartment, at the lake. And, with him were people he had never dreamed of seeing again – Sirius, Remus and his family, old friends from school. There was such happiness in their lives. It made his stomach churn. He hated being taunted like his, reminded of days of what could have been.</p><p>Scout crawled up to him and curled up on his lap, keeping him warm. He closed his eyes. He spent every night in his dreams. He spent almost every waking hour at work. That wasn't what he had wished for when he was younger, before the war. He hadn't wished for the scars or the pain or the tears. He had wanted these photographs, the memories held in them. He had wanted <em>this</em>.</p><hr/><p>Harry struggled to get his robe off with just one arm, since his other was out of commission for now. He groaned as his ribs protested. This wasn't fair. He had already gotten hurt four days ago. This wasn't even his real life! Was trouble attracted to him or something? He scowled. Stupid dramatic Malfoy. </p><p>Usually, when Harry got hurt, he would turn to Severus first. The professor could make anything hurt less with his potions. But Severus wasn't here. It pained him to think about that – not because he missed his professor, but because he felt for the other Harry who had no family at all. Sirius wasn't here either. Sirius would have eagerly taken him in after seeing him wrapped up in bandages. Remus would have helped him take his mind off of things. He didn't want to impose on the Molly and Arthur since they were probably still recovering from all the Christmas festivities. To make matters worse, he didn't even have a good relationship with his Auror team. He had yet to meet them all since he arrived in this parallel universe. </p><p>Who was he supposed to complain to? He missed Scout so much. </p><p>He jumped when a loud banging knock sounded at the front door. </p><p>Upon opening the door, he found himself facing Hermione and Ron. The couple looked thoroughly displeased.</p><p>"Sorry," he said preemptively. He knew he looked a mess. He had broken his nose, a few ribs, and an elbow on top of all the gashes from being thrown through a closed door. The Healer at St. Mungo's had patched him up splendidly, but he still had a bandage around his forehead, one black eye, and an arm in a sling.</p><p>"For Merlin's sake!" Ron snapped without losing a moment. "You couldn't have let us know? What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any-" </p><p>"I had to find out from my coworkers," Hermione blurted out over her husband's admonishment. "Can you imagine how worried-" </p><p>"Mum is practically blowing a fuse. Look, I know you don't want to worry us and all, but keeping things like this from us is a bloody-" </p><p>"Wait, wait, wait," Harry quickly stammered to stop the onslaught. He had never seen his best friends this way before. Usually everyone just laughed at him or shook their head in disappointment. But no one got upset except for Severus. Ron and Hermione appeared genuinely panicked at the moment. "It's nothing. Really. It's just a lot of bandages and things," Harry insisted. "And I didn't think you would worry-" He trailed off when he saw their aghast expressions. </p><p>"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "Why wouldn't we be worried?" </p><p>"You didn't even call us from St. Mungo's!" Ron carried on heatedly. "I've had enough, Harry! You have no regard for how we feel and it's gone on for long enough!" </p><p>"Don't keep pushing us away." </p><p>"What did we do? At least tell us if we did something wrong." </p><p>"You'll only end up hurting us." </p><p>Harry forced down the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." He had made a royal mess of things, yet again. "You should come inside. I'll put the kettle on," he mumbled. He hurried out of the foyer without waiting for an answer. </p><p>Only when he got to the kitchen did he stop to dry his eyes. "Fuck," he swore and kicked the wall. "You stupid idiot." He struggled to get his wand out of his pocket and brushed his fist against his eyes again while sniffing. He managed to fill up the kettle, then tapped it to send the water bubbling. He had been distracted by Malfoy's plight. He had forgotten about his own situation and what he was putting his loved ones through by getting so caught up in himself. He hadn't meant to worry anyone. He just hadn't known that anyone <em> would </em> worry.</p><p>He floated the cups of tea up two floors, to the drawing room where Ron and Hermione sat, their conversation coming to an abrupt halt when he walked in. He set the mugs on the coffee table in front of each of them before taking a seat on a chair opposite them. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. Since neither of them wanted to be the first one to talk, they reached for their tea simultaneously. They took a quick sip, which only lengthened the uncomfortable silence. </p><p>Hermione suddenly frowned. "Hmm." She pulled back to examine the tea in confusion. </p><p>"Oh," Harry noticed and started to get up. "Did you want more sugar?" </p><p>"No, no," she interjected. "It's fine, Harry. I never realized you knew how I took my tea, that's all." </p><p>Ron frowned as well while peering into his cup. "Oh yeah," he murmured. "It's quite good."</p><p>Of course Harry knew how they liked their tea. They were his best friends, after all. Never mind that. Tea was hardly important. He sat forward and said, "About today-"</p><p>"No, Harry, we should be the ones apologizing," Hermione insisted without letting him finish. "I mean, on top of everything you went through, you have to deal with us when you come home, it's not fair to you. <em> We're </em> sorry, okay? It's just that we were scared and we didn't know what was going on. We couldn't reach you. We didn't know how you were doing, what had happened, nothing." </p><p>"I know I should have let you guys know," Harry said. "I thought it wasn't-" He stopped himself. He wanted to say it wasn't a big deal, but he didn't want them to blow up again. </p><p>"It's not a big deal, right?" Ron finished his sentence for him after arching a brow sardonically. "Isn't that what you were going to say?" </p><p>"Uh... No...?" </p><p>Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "When will you learn? It's always a big deal with us." </p><p>"Yeah, but-" </p><p>"And what's this about you not filing assault charges against Malfoy?" she slipped in. </p><p>Harry cleared his throat. “He has a lot on his plate and-” </p><p>"He could have killed you," Ron blustered. "It's not like you provoked him, right?" </p><p>"Well, you see,” Harry stammered, “he overreacted and I don’t think he meant to-" </p><p>"Why are you making excuses for him?" Hermione wanted to know. "He's had his chances. Anyone who assaults an Auror, especially the Head Auror, doesn't get off scot-free." </p><p>"<em>Listen </em> to me," Harry said over their words. They quieted down reluctantly. He exhaled. "Now just listen, okay?" he said. "He's had a nervous breakdown, wasn't thinking properly. Do you honestly think he would try to hurt me in broad daylight? Besides, I can't charge him because I p-um... because... er, of reasons." </p><p>They blinked at him. </p><p>"Yeah," he mumbled while shifting in his seat. "That is all I have to say about that." </p><p>"What did you do?"</p><p>"I didn't do anything." </p><p>"Harry." </p><p>"Why would I do anything?" </p><p>"Why can't you write Malfoy up?" </p><p>"No reason." </p><p>"Harry James Pot-" </p><p>"It was self-defense!" Harry spewed out. </p><p>Ron and Hermione sat up. "What was self-defense?" they asked in unison.</p><p>"Uh, nothing." </p><p>"You <em> retaliated</em>?" Hermione gasped when she suddenly caught on. </p><p>"What?" Ron couldn’t believe it. The famously cool-as-a-cucumber Head Auror had retaliated? "You hexed him back?" </p><p>"I didn't hex him!" Harry had to get the story straight. "I just punched him a little." </p><p>"Punched him a little?" Hermione echoed weakly. </p><p>"Yeah." It was the least he could after getting the full force of <em> Expulso </em> straight to the chest.</p><p>"Pfft." Ron clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus kept stirring the potion while letting Draco stew near him without paying any heed. He sometimes wondered how his life had gained so many more actors, but then he would remember that it was all thanks to Dumbledore's plan that had taken hold nearly twenty years ago. His home, that used to a haven for him, hadn't been a very private place for a while now. Apparently even Draco saw it fit to simply waltz in and relay his annoyances to the only other person who would listen to him whine. </p>
<p>"You were the one who asked me to check up on him," the young Malfoy muttered under his breath. </p>
<p>"I simply asked you to keep an eye out," Severus recalled. "You went looking for a confrontation. As always." </p>
<p>Draco made a disparaging sound by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Finding faults in me isn't going to help."</p>
<p>"On the contrary, I do hope it will help you think before you act." </p>
<p>"You sound just like Mother." </p>
<p>"She has sense in her." </p>
<p>"Look," Draco said with finality. "We were talking about Potter. Not me. And no, I don't think anything is wrong with him. He is as juvenile as ever. I don't even care." He started pacing around the cauldron angrily. </p>
<p>Severus rolled his eyes. "If you don't care, why are you here?" </p>
<p>Draco spun around to glare at his godfather. "I don't care," he bit out once again. "I just wanted to know what <em> you </em> think is wrong with him." </p>
<p>Severus couldn't be sure. "I simply wanted to see if he had gotten better since his illness," he said.</p>
<p>"Did you know he's going to be made Head Auror?" </p>
<p>Severus stilled.</p>
<p>"He didn't tell you?" </p>
<p>He looked up at Draco, frowning. "When was it announced?" he wanted to know. </p>
<p>"It hasn't been announced yet," Draco said. "There are rumors. I think he's the only one who didn't know. I was talking to him about it two days ago. He became quite strange. I thought he would have spoken to you." His suspicious frown mirrored his godfather's. "He didn't say anything at all?"</p>
<hr/>
<p>Draco pretended not to notice Lionel's intense stare by opening up the well-read letter in his hand. He practically knew the contents by heart. He no longer worked in the Public Information offices. He had been written up for insubordinate behavior, poor work ethic, and shoddy work. Also for destroying two rooms filled with records that, to be honest, no one had looked at for the past fifty years but insisted on keeping in pristine condition. He wasn't surprised by the letter. He was merely surprised he hadn't received it sooner. He had hated every single hour he spent in the silent filing room sorting through forms and chronologically arranging documents. Three years of that. It was a wonder he was still sane. </p>
<p>He paused. </p>
<p>Maybe he wasn't so sane after all. He had attacked the Head Auror. Then the Head Auror had given him sweets.</p>
<p>The rest of the letter was a direct order from the Minister that read that he had to come to speak with Potter at eight today. It was now fifteen minutes past eight. His knee started to bounce once again as his nerves caught up with him. What would happen now? He had many questions that he couldn't ask. He had to do as he was told according to his probationary agreement. How this was any better than Azkaban, he couldn't be sure at that moment. </p>
<p>The door burst open without warning, startling the two men in the outer office. Harry came rushing in saying, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, running late." He would have bee-lined it to his office too if he hadn't noticed Draco. He stumbled to an abrupt halt in confusion. Then he gasped when he suddenly remembered. He smacked his hand against his forehead as he spun around to face Lionel. "Could you please free me up until eight thirty? Please?" he begged. </p>
<p>"Uh, um, y-you're already freed up, sir."</p>
<p>"Ah! Great!" He waved at Draco. "Let's go in then." He continued to his office. </p>
<p>Draco stared after the Head Auror in amazement. Something was seriously wrong with Potter. He gingerly got up to his feet and frowned at Lionel. "Is he alright?" he asked. </p>
<p>Lionel shrugged. "He's been very strange lately," he answered in a conspiring whisper. </p>
<p>Harry was pulling out a white folder from the mess on his desk when Draco walked in. "You can sit down," he said. Draco complied. Harry yawned behind his hand while flipping through the contents of the folder. There was silence for a minute, the only sound in the room being the rustle of parchment. Draco's knee was beginning to bounce once again. </p>
<p>But Harry eventually looked up at him. "So?" he asked. "How are you?" </p>
<p>Draco couldn't place the uneasiness he was feeling. Potter was trying to placate him. Why? "Fine," he answered. </p>
<p>Harry waited expectantly for more.</p>
<p>Draco didn't have anything more to say. He frowned instead.</p>
<p>Harry frowned back, then looked at the papers he held in his hands. "Anyway, you're working for me now. Is that alright?" </p>
<p>"Do I have a choice?" </p>
<p>"No." </p>
<p>"Then I am alright with it," Draco said drily. </p>
<p>Harry smirked as he picked up a quill off the desk and signed the bottom of a form. He handed the parchment to Draco. "You need to sign there." He indicated a space beside his own signature. As Draco signed his life away, Harry added, "This says that I'm your supervisor now." Draco didn't bother acknowledging that. He simply set the quill back on the desk and pushed the paper back. Harry placed the contract in the folder. As he dated it, he said, "You can start by getting me a cup of coffee. Black." </p>
<p>Draco didn't respond. </p>
<p>Harry flicked his eyes up as his smile widened. "Was that distasteful?"</p>
<p>"Very." </p>
<p>"I'm your boss." </p>
<p>Draco did know that. He had just signed the paper. But for some reason, that wasn't stopping him. Perhaps it was the recent breakdown he had experienced. Or maybe it was remnants of his last chat with Potter. It could also be because, at that moment, Potter was speaking to him like he mattered. "You haven't spoken to me in years," he said. "Do you plan on humiliating me? Because there isn't anything anyone can do to push me any lower." </p>
<p>Harry's smile faded. "I wasn't planning on it-" </p>
<p>"Do you feel sorry for me?" </p>
<p>Of course. Harry had many reasons to feel sorry for this world. He had seen what Draco Malfoy could have been. The man had potential. He also knew that circumstances had caused many lives to end up in this very abysmal rut. "I'm not a cold-hearted bastard. Of course I feel sorry for you." </p>
<p>Draco bristled. "Fine." He couldn't be bothered to argue. "What do you need me to do here?" </p>
<p>Harry sat back with a scheming glint in his eye. "You can start by telling me why Collins was yelling at you." He rested his elbows on the plush armrests of his brand-new chair and interlocked his fingers very officially. "You know, for posterity." </p>
<p>"I don't want to talk about it." </p>
<p>"If I started yelling at you, what would you do?" </p>
<p>Draco pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off a growing headache. </p>
<p>"A lot of people would be thrilled to be in your position right now."</p>
<p>He realized that it was going to a <em> very </em> long day.</p>
<p>"I think you should be a bit more grateful for what I've done for you."</p>
<p>He tilted his head back and closed his eyes in exhaustion, letting Potter jabber on without him. </p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was in the break room rustling through the snack basket for some crisps when he heard footsteps behind him, at the doorway. Looking back, he was surprised to find a half-dozen Aurors shuffling in awkwardly, Chase leading the pack. Neither party said anything as they regarded each other for a moment – the Aurors getting an eyeful of their boss with a bandaged arm and bruised head while Harry tried to think back to the last time his team had looked at him with such serious expressions. He couldn’t remember. He finally broke the silence, asking, “What?” </p><p>Someone seemed to nudge Chase’s back by the way he started and jerked forward a step. “We heard about the yesterday’s incident,” he told Harry. “Are you alright?” </p><p>“Oh, yes, yes.” Harry waved them off. “It’s nothing. I’ve been worse. One time I was chasing after some Dementors and rammed into a brick wall. It came out of nowhere, believe me. Couldn’t get out of St. Mungo’s for days.” Harry remembered those initial years as an Auror with some agony. “Traction, you know? Anyway, yesterday they let me out in just two hours. What does that tell you?” </p><p>The Aurors didn’t know. They didn’t know Harry Potter could get placed on traction. They didn’t know Harry Potter flew into walls. They also didn't know Harry Potter spoke like this. Chase cleared his throat because he could tell without turning around to look at his team that they were gawking at the Head Auror. “And we heard that it was Draco Malfoy?”</p><p>Harry sighed. This incident would no doubt be the talk of the Ministry for many months to come. “He’s been reprimanded.” </p><p>“But we just saw him in the evidence room.” </p><p>“Right. I told him to clean it up.” </p><p>Chase was sure he had misunderstood Harry. “Pardon me?” </p><p>“Because he works for me now.” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Don’t worry. It’s just temporary.” </p><p>The Aurors were left speechless. Something was most certainly wrong with Harry Potter. With nothing more to say, they began to shuffle out, bewildered and itching to continue this conversation sans Head Auror. </p><p>Harry said, “Chase? Could I speak to you for a minute?” </p><p>Chase hung back and shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously while the breakroom emptied out, leaving him alone with his boss. Harry gestured at the table. They sat down in unison, across from each other. Harry ripped open the small bag of crisps he had gotten his hands on and stuffed a few in his mouth before offering Chase some. Chase shook his head to decline. Harry then sat back while brushing crumbs off of the front of his robe. “I’m really drowning in work,” he admitted. </p><p>Chase couldn’t hide his surprise. His eyebrows arched up. </p><p>Harry noticed and he smiled. “Am I that good at hiding it?” he asked. </p><p>Chase stammered, “N-no, sorry, I’m just...” He quickly tried to rearrange his expression. “I didn’t expect to hear that from you.” </p><p>“Hmm.” Harry had figured as much. “I trust your judgement. You are one of the most experienced Aurors on the team, with a lot of expertise. I would trust you to make the right decisions when it comes to matters with detection of counterfeit defense spells and artifacts. Do you have the capacity to take on more work?” </p><p>“Absolutely, sir.” </p><p>“If you think there are others who are eager, I would also like someone to lead a team to coordinate with the Hit Wizards for major crimes, and someone to ensure adequate preparation for Wizengamot dates.” </p><p>“Yes, sir.” </p><p>Harry knew that would take a lot off of his plate. “Let’s have a meeting with everyone next week then?” </p><p>“Yes, sir.” </p><p>That took a load off of his mind too. Harry smiled at Chase again. “How’s Pete?” </p><p>Chase nodded quickly. “Uh, good, good. He’s, well, he’s going on five now, so we’ve got our hands full,” he trailed off. </p><p>Harry knew all about a handful of four-year-old, since his Teddy was the same age as Peter. Tonks and Remus were haggard after a day with their son, and they were always eager to drop Teddy off at Harry’s at least a few times a month, whenever he offered, just so they could take a day to themselves. He wondered if he should be offering to take Pete off of Vicky and Chase’s hands once in a while, so they could catch a break. But before he could say anything, Chase said, “Sir, about Malfoy.” </p><p>Harry tilted his head to the side as he rummaged in the bag of chips. </p><p>Chase shifted in the chair. “What is he doing here?” </p><p>Good question. “Repenting.” Harry winked at Chase. “Like I said, it’s only temporary. Until I find him another secondment.” </p><p>“You’ve known him for a long time, right?” </p><p>Harry nodded. He had known Draco a very long time, ever since he was eleven and Draco had scowled at him for getting Sorted into Gryffindor and he had scowled back at Draco for getting Sorted into Slytherin. They had been great friends for almost all his magical life. </p><p>Chase sat forward and interlaced his fingers on the table. “And you trust him to be here? In the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” He wanted to be sure. </p><p>Harry shrugged. “What’s the worst he could do?” </p><p>Chase shook his head in disbelief. “Alright.” He stood up. “I should get back to work. I’ll schedule that team meeting with Lionel next week.” </p><p>“Yes, thank you.” Harry watched Chase walk out of the breakroom, leaving him alone with his musings. </p><p>Of course, he trusted Draco. That is, he trusted <em> his </em> Draco. He didn’t really know <em> this </em> Draco. What he did know was that this Draco used to be a Death Eater, like Lucius. He knew that this Draco had gotten in so deep with Voldemort that he couldn't get out, not without Professor Snape’s help. He knew that this Draco wasn’t rich, wasn’t powerful, and he wasn‘t happy. Could he be trusted? Harry hoped so. </p><p>Draco was standing in front of an enormous table, categorizing the evidence placed on it in a ledger he held in his hands, when he heard the sound of shoes clipping across the room. “Keeping an eye on me, Potter?” he muttered without looking up. </p><p>“No,” Harry lied as he pretended to examine the shelves of boxes. </p><p>Draco finished his note and raised his eyes to take in Harry’s bandaged up get-up. “Do you really need that?” he asked, pointing at Harry’s arm in a sling. </p><p>“Oh, this?” Harry narrowed his eyes into slits to glare at Draco. “After breaking my elbow into a billion pieces, you’re asking me if I need this?” </p><p>Draco averted his eyes and began writing in the ledger again instead of commenting. </p><p>"No, I just wear it for the sympathy,” Harry grumbled as he continued to pretend to examine the boxes of evidence. "Lunch?"</p><p>Draco frowned and paused with his quill poised over the paper. "Hmm?"</p><p>"It's past noon. Do you want to grab lunch?" Harry asked again.</p><hr/><p>“Potter.” </p><p>Harry jumped in his chair and snapped the large History of Magic book shut before whipping around to glare at Draco, who had stooped down over his shoulder to snoop at his reading material. “What?” he barked. </p><p>Draco stood upright and pulled up at chair to sit opposite Harry in the Auror breakroom. “Are you reading about yourself?” he asked plainly as he reached for some crisps in the open bag in front of Harry. </p><p>Harry moved the bag away while continuing to glare at Draco. “No,” he lied. </p><p>Draco tsked and glumly pulled his empty hand back before propping his elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his fist. “What’s wrong?” he wanted to know. </p><p>“Nothing,” Harry said. </p><p>“Did Robards talk to you?” </p><p>“Hmm.” </p><p>“And?” </p><p>Harry didn’t say. </p><p>Draco snapped his fingers once, prompting Harry to look up at him. “If you don’t take the job,” he said, “I’ll hex your hair off.” </p><p>“I’d like to see you try.” </p><p>Draco didn’t try. He examined Harry instead, watching him munch on chips with his head down, his glasses slipping down his nose, steadfastly ignoring him. He has been hiding something since Christmas. Draco knew. But since when was Harry so secretive? Usually he couldn’t wait to spill his secrets. Draco wondered if he should be getting worried, just like Snape seemed to be. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked. It was New Year's Eve.</p><p>"Sirius is throwing a party."</p><p>"Of course. Am I invited?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. "I've got places to be, in any case."</p><p>“Are we friends?”</p><p>That seemed to give him pause. His scowl smoothed over. “What?” That was a strange thing to say, Draco thought. “Of course, we are.” </p><p>Harry studied Draco’s expression as he asked, “Do you remember how we became friends?” </p><p>Draco peered at Harry with a suspicious gaze. “Not really,” he admitted. “First year at Hogwarts, I suppose. I can’t remember.” He broke off with a shake of his head, a frown once again furrowing his brows. “Are you trying to distract me? It’s not going to work-” </p><p>“I can’t really remember either,” Harry interrupted him. “That’s why I asked.” </p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” </p><p>“It matters to me.” </p><p>“No,” Draco said deliberately once again. “It doesn’t matter.” Then he reached over and snatched the bag of chips out of Harry's hands. "Is this your sorry excuse for lunch?" He fished around for a perfect chip. "Want to grab a <span class="TextRun BCX2 SCXW187248363"><span class="NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2 BCX2 DefaultHighlightTransition SCXW187248363">döner</span></span>?" He looked at Harry expectantly as he popped the chip in his mouth. "Your treat because you've been an arse."</p>
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